The Avenging of Natalie Frost
by YouLookLikeFOOD
Summary: "My life is normal. Honestly, it is! I mean… if you discount the psychotic Frost Giant. And my super-powered roommates. And the Bubble of Death. But hey, I still go shopping! Captain America has to come with me, but still… That's normal, right? Maybe? Ugh, this is all Tony's fault. I wish he'd never ordered that pizza. I hate my life." T for violence and language.
1. In Which I Meet Tony Stark

The Avenging of Natalie Frost

Let me start by saying this: everything you are about to read is classified as _hell. _If Fury caught me with this thing, I would be `_dead. _Do you get that? Eyepatch man would _kill me. _End of story, end of me. And probably end of you, too. So, if you want to take that risk, on your own head be it.

Ok, just said that to make him happy. Let me tell you, he does not approve of this. He wants me to focus more on writing my daily reports, training, and the welfare of the Avengers. That is, after all, their justification for not killing me last year.

Let me explain. It all started with my job; pizza delivery. I was eighteen, but not quite out of the house yet, trying to scrape together some money to help get me to a decent apartment. I went to a college nearby, and did what every college student to get by. I had a decent life.

And then I was called to deliver pizza to 'Stark Tower'.

That was when everything went to hell.

Let me first point out that _everyone _knew about Tony Stark's little 'alter ego', Iron Man. You would think that everyone would be fighting tooth and nail to get to the tower, to deliver pizza to one of the most famous men on earth, a guy who could probably tip more than you'd earn in a month, a guy who went around in a badass super-hero suit and saved the day from bad guys. You'd be wrong.

Turns out, everyone else was a lot smarter than I was. They had all backed away, shuffled on their feet, looked down when the boss called for someone to take it there. And I, being the adventure-lover that I am (sarcasm, I can assure you) had accepted. Why not? A little extra money was always a good thing. I was a college student; I was not going to pass this opportunity up.

I took the pizzas, strapped them to my bike, and started towards Stark Tower. I couldn't miss it; the building had his name plastered all over it, for crying out loud. I started towards it and was there before long; a big, imposing place that gave me my first clue as to why everyone avoided it like the plague.

My second clue was the person who answered the door.

I won't deny, Tony Stark was a looker. But I'd seen him on TV before and was less than impressed. He was arrogant. He was bossy. He was, in polite terms, a bit of a jerk. Still, he was a rich jerk, and a jerk with superpowers. That was bound to win some women over.

Some women. Not this kid. I held out the pizza box, a little breathless from the trip here. "Twenty dollars, seven cents," I informed him, swallowing back the dry, polluted air of New York. Ugh, I had to get out of this place.

He grinned at me and took the pizzas, pulling twenty-one dollars out of a wallet in his hands. "Thanking you kindly," he said, his hand already on the door. He was about to close it in my face, but I stopped him.

"Your change?" I said, a little harshly. I don't know why he irritated me. He'd said thank you, he'd paid faster than most customers, he hadn't yelled at me or anything. He'd even taken the time to smile at me. But he was closing the door in my face, rushing me, trying to get me to move faster.

"Keep it," he said, and slammed the door.

That was my first encounter with Tony Stark.

But everyone orders pizza from time to time, and a party animal like Stark is bound to order more eventually. Soon, it became established that I was supposed to go over there whenever there was a call from his place; and I quickly realized why everyone else avoided the job. His parties were loud and full of drunk people; including Stark himself. On those occasions, it was harder to get him to actually take and pay for the pizza, as he would sling his arm around my shoulders and start talking about something that happened with an old fling of his. His party guests were the strangest people, too; on a few occasions, I would see a man in a trench coat, standing stoically in the corner, wearing an eye patch. He stood out only because of his complete lack of interest in the party; but there were others who stood out for far stranger reasons. Particularly one man with long blonde hair, thick muscles, and what looked suspiciously like medieval armor.

But that was not as bad as the many, _many _times in which Tony crash-landed in his Iron Man suit, occasionally coming so close that I would have gone splat if I hadn't run away as fast as I did. He would laugh it off, say something about technical glitches, then pay for the pizza and be off again.

In fact, the first time he really talked to me was about a year after I had been delivering to his house; by which point I was nineteen, still with big dreams, still going to college in state, and still living with my mother. Not the greatest place for me to be, if you know what I'm saying. To top it off, my mother and I had been in a fight that day, so I was a little testy as I rang the doorbell.

He opened the door a few moments later- while I wondered why he didn't just hire a butler and get it over with, so that I never had to see his smarmy face again- and he looked me in the eye, frowning. "Do I know you?" He asked after a moment.

I fought a scowl, shoving the pizzas towards him. "Pizza delivery. Twenty bucks, seven cents."

He didn't seem to notice my mood as he pulled the money from a brand-new black wallet (then again, it always seemed brand new). He handed it over. "You've delivered here before, haven't you?"

"Every day for the past year," I answered, trying not to sound as irritable as I felt and failing miserably. I pulled his change out of the little pack I kept and handed it to him.

"Really?" he looked me up and down. "Well, that explains it then."

I stood and plastered on my best, biggest, brightest smile. "Anything else, sir?"

He seemed to notice how fake and plastic I looked; he actually laughed aloud. "No, you're good." He smiled back, genuinely. "But can I know your name, since I've never asked it before?"

I shrugged, not really caring. "Natalie. Natalie Frost."

He grinned again. "Nice to meet you, Natalie Frost. I'm Tony Stark." He held out a hand.

"I know," I answered, my irritation finally getting the better of me. "Trust me, _everyone _knows."

And eyebrow lifted. "You've noticed that, huh?"

I rolled my eyes. "You plastered your name on a _building,_" I pointed out, probably going to get fired, given my rudeness to a customer. But at this point I didn't care so much.

Instead, he laughed again. "Fair point." He handed me back the change, as well as a few green bills. "Here's a tip. Try and get a better job, yeah?"

I scowled. The benign look in his face suggested that he wasn't _trying _to be rude, but that just made it worse. I held out the money, handing it back to him. "No, thanks. Delivering pizza is my life."

He seemed to notice the sarcasm without really seeming to identify (or wanting to identify) why I was being sarcastic. He laughed a final time. "If you're sure about that," he said, fanning out the bills in his hand so that I could see the amounts on all of them. Twenties. Every single one of them. I felt my face go hot with… what? Embarrassment? Anger? One of the two. But I forced my head up high.

"Positive," I affirmed. He smirked at me and put the money away. Looking back, I should've taken the cash and run for my life. Maybe then I wouldn't be caught up in all this mess.

"Well, it's still nice to meet you, Ms. Frost," he said courteously, then slammed the door in my face, narrowly missing my nose. I backed away quickly, hissing out a few choice swears, the glaring at the door and mumbling under my breath.

That was when I realized that, of the three pizzas he'd ordered, I'd only given him two.

I swore again, a lot louder this time. I glanced to the door. How bad of a person would I be if I just took the food and ran? Stashed it at my place and had dinner for free that night? It wasn't like Tony Stark couldn't afford to buy another pizza; and I _was _a starving college student, after all. I looked from the box on my bike, to the door, and back again.

I then proceeded to throw a hissy fit, stamping my foot and grumbling about alien abductions, strapping people to rockets, and something about a tree. I finally tucked the box under my arm, not caring that I was jostling the pizza and probably squishing it against the cardboard, then knocked on his door with a tight fist. It only took a moment, but then Stark was there again, looking just a bit too smug.

"Back again?" He asked civilly. I jabbed the pizza box towards him, trying to hit him in the gut but missing by about an inch.

"I forgot to give this one to you," I said through clenched teeth. I still didn't know why he was rubbing me the wrong way, but there was just so much about him that I didn't like.

He took it, smiling a brilliantly white smile, like the ones you might see in toothpaste commercials. "Thank you, Ms. Frost."

"Yeah," I growled, turning away and walking to my bike again. Just as I was seated and pulling my helmet straps around my chin, he called, "You know the front porch is under surveillance, right? That everything you just did was caught on camera?"

Crap. My eyes immediately darted around, trying to catch sight of a camera lens, but if it was there, it was hidden. I suspected- and hoped- that it _wasn't _there, but that was dashed when he added, "My favorite part was the alien abductions."

I ground my teeth together, clasped my helmet onto my head, then turned to him, looked him full in the face, and flipped him off.

He was still laughing as I rode away.

**A/N: I do not **_**plan **_**to do any OC/Tony or OC/Any other Avenger romance in this fic. Whether or not things will work out the way I plan is another matter entirely. **


	2. The Plot Sickens

My next encounter with the man happened only two days later. I tried to refuse to deliver to Stark Tower again, but of course no one else wanted to do it, and this time there was no newbie to push the job onto. I was forced to strap the pizzas to my bike and head off to Stark Tower _again. _

When I got there, I rang the doorbell like usual, but this time, a voice came over a speaker system. "Ah, Natalie, right on time. Come on in!"

The door clicked open. I stared at it suspiciously for a moment, then sighed and went inside. What was the worst that could happen?

Believe me; you have no idea.

I shuffled in, already annoyed and- I'm ashamed to admit- a little intimidated by the massive building. Doors opened here and there, indicating which way I should go, and I found myself navigating a labyrinth of hallways, finally stopping when I saw Stark. He was surrounded by computers, his eyes shining a little as they reflected the light from each screen. He seemed to sense my presence despite the fact that he wasn't looking at me, and he turned around to face me, smiled, and turned back to the computer.

"Natalie Frost. A college student. Majoring in psychology, if I'm not very much mistaken." He smirked. "An interesting field of study. You're also fluent in both English and Spanish, currently studying Danish… another interesting choice."

My eyes popped. I stared at him, agape, my jaw hanging open. "You… I mean… you're…" I swallowed, shook my head quickly, then raged, "What the hell, Stark?"

He shrugged. "I looked you up." As my mouth opened and closed and I struggled to figure out how I should react to that, he said, "I look everyone up."

I stared as he kept going. "You aren't the most interesting individual I've ever met. Average grades. Average life. You live with your mother, and oh, look at that! You have a puppy!"

My hands clenched around the pizza boxes so tight that the cardboard gave way. "That," I said, very slowly and clearly, trying to get the words out. "Is an invasion of my privacy."

"No, _that_ is on the internet," he countered, coming up next to me and taking the pizza boxes from my hands. "You'd be surprised what's there, if you just know where to look." He winked, handed me the money for the pizza, and set the boxes on a table nearby.

My hands, no longer occupied by the cardboard, clenched into fists at my sides. "So help me, Tony Stark…" I threatened, but it trailed off as I found myself unable to think of anything bad enough to threaten him with. He just patted me on the head a few times.

"There, there, Nat. Can I call you Nat?"

"No."

"All right, then. There, there, _Natalie_. You shouldn't get yourself so worked up over everything. Too much stress isn't good for your health."

I glowered at him. "I'll show myself out." I said caustically, then started towards the door. I felt my cheeks burning. My teeth ground together a bit nosily.

"_For en person, der er så utroligt gennemsnit, du er også ret interessant_," He quipped quietly. I froze, my head automatically trying to translate the Danish he threw at me; a remnant from the classroom, where the teacher spoke only that language and no other. Simultaneously, I tried to figure out where he could have learned Danish from; consequently, I found my feet rooted to the ground, unable to move in the onslaught of fresh thoughts that went on in my head.

"Or perhaps you'd understand it better if I said: _Para alguien que lo increíblemente promedio, usted también está bastante interesante."_

That one I _did _understand. _"For someone who's so incredibly average, you're also quite interesting." _I turned to him, glaring.

"That's how your Spanish…" He picked up something that looked like a piece of glass with a bunch of flashing lights painted across it, ran his fingers over it a few times, then concluded, "Aunt, was it? Well, that's how she would say it, am I right?"

"Do the world a favor, Stark," I said darkly, "And go die in a hole." I turned away and started walking to the door again.

"Well that's not a very nice thing to say," he mock-pouted. I almost slapped him.

"_Goodbye_, Tony!" I called as I went, waving over my shoulder.

"Oh, come on now!" He replied, coming up next to me with a few quick strides and keeping up easily. "It's not everybody in the world who's on first-name terms with a billionaire!"

"True, but there are a lot who are on first-name terms with assholes," I answered, not stopping. "Enjoy your pizza, Mr. Stark. Please order from us again!"

I cut down a hallway that I was fairly certain lead to the way out, hoping against all hope that I was right. Thankfully, I caught sight of the door as soon as I turned; hiding my relief, I headed towards it with faster, more purposeful steps. It was wide open; I could just slip outside and be free of this nuisance…

Slowly, surely, the door closed. There was no one around it, so I immediately whirled on Stark; everything in this place was automated, after all. As I prepared myself to give him a tirade that would make his ears bleed, he slouched to the side of the wall. Unfortunately for my lecture, the arrogance had been wiped clean out of his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Natalie." He said quietly. "I can't let you do that."

Now, I'm sure you've never been in a situation like this before, but when a superhero tells you that he 'can't let you' leave, you know you're in problems, because they can enforce it. Boy, can they enforce it. So what do you do? Try and run? Run where?

My eyes darted about, looking for escape routes. No good; no windows, no doors. Only me and Tony in a lonesome hallway. So I could fight; he didn't have his suit with him. He looked strong enough to overpower me easily, but I sure as hell wasn't going without a fight, anyway. And I was sure this was leading to a fight; the look in his eyes told me that I was about to get some serious bad news.

As it turns out, my worries about Tony hurting me were for nothing; he pulled something out of his pocket, tossing it towards me. I caught it reflexively, then tensed as I realized how stupid that was, that it could be a trap. I looked to him quickly, but there was no malice in his eyes.

I looked to the object. It was a strip of metal, about two inches wide, as thick as a few pieces of paper, and a little longer than my hand. I stared at it in confusion; it was perfectly flat, with no machinery on it, yet it vibrated softly against my fingers. I looked to Tony, about to ask him what the heck it was, when suddenly it came to life in my hand.

I let out an embarrassingly girly shriek as the thing started to move about, twisting around, incredibly thin and-I suddenly realized- sharp as a razor. I tried to drop it, but before I could, it wrapped itself around my wrist, the edges fusing together, and stayed there. I clawed at it ineffectually for a moment, then turned to Tony, eyes on fire.

"What the hell is this, Stark?" I demanded in a screech. He held up his hands, as though to show he was harmless. It was an act I did not believe.

"Relax, Natalie. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about this before. It's just…" He sighed slowly. "You're going to want to sit down for this."

"No. No I'm not. I'm going to want you to tell me _what the hell you just did to me!_"

He bit his lip carefully, then slowly, reached towards his pocket. Even more carefully, he pulled out a small object that looked like a cell phone. He pressed a few buttons, then tossed it to me. I let it fall to the floor; no way I was falling for that trick again.

He sighed through his nose. "Just look at it, will you?" I glared at him, then slowly lowered my eyes to the object. A picture was displayed on the screen, which somehow had not cracked when I let it fall. Stark Tech. Who knew the commercials about it were right?

The screen displayed a number of small, metallic objects; they all looked roughly the same, though a few of them had been partially blurred. I focused my eyes on the one that had been closest to the camera; it looked quite a bit like a robot of some sort. I looked back up to Tony.

"What is it?" I asked harshly.

"What are _they,_" he corrected mildly. I gave him a death glare.

"Whatever!"

He looked me in the eye. "They're nanobots. It's a project I've been working on; something I've been toying with for quite a while. They're working pretty well; the only problem is, they're a bit… glitchy."

"And I should care _why?_"

"Because you have thousands of those running amok in your bloodstream as we speak."

I stared at him, aghast. I rubbed my ear with one finger, as though cleaning it out. "I'm sorry…_**what?**_"

He raised his hands slightly again, that _don't-blame-me-I'm-the-good-guy-and-I-would-never-hurt-you _look on his face just making my stomach sink lower than it already had. "Let me explain. Like I said, I've been working on this for quite a while now. These nanobots… well, they're supposed to help people. The original idea was to get them to help with diseases and such; to fight off the disease on a molecular level. But then I…ah… got a bit distracted." He rubbed the back of his head, looking a bit sheepish.

"Distracted," I echoed quietly.

"Yeah. I've almost perfected them to the point where they can boost the immune system, sure, but then I got carried away. Started adding things that would help for other problems; outside problems. Self-defense and such. I'm a weapons specialist at heart, after all.

The problem is, I'm still working out the kinks. At their current state, they're a little… erm… _unstable. _For the most part, they'll do their job, but… well, I added a failsafe. And that's where things went wrong.

"You see, I gave these things a small amount of artificial intelligence. They can think. Adapt. And while their core programming to help and heal _should_ keep them from doing anything out of the ordinary, it's always good to have a backup plan, correct? So when I gave them this intelligence, I also gave them a self-destruct; which they will employ within forty-eight hours if they have not received a direct order from Stark Tower, or from that little device there." He gestured to the object on my wrist. "And… well, your time was almost up."

"_My _time?" I finally found my breath to ask. "What… what do you mean?"

He smiled weakly. "Well… two days ago, the last time you came here… they escaped…?" It was almost a question.

I gulped down air, choked on it, and started coughing. When I finally regained control, I snarled, "Oh, well, that makes _perfect _sense now! They frickin' _escaped!_ What, can't keep a lid on your own weapons tech, Stark? What kind of a genius _are _you?"

He waited as my rant exceeded two minutes; which I won't put here, as it got long, rambly, and eventually didn't make much sense. By the time I finished, I was sputtering and speechless, staring at him like one of us had just come from outer space.

Tony looked at me, quite calmly, and spoke slowly and steadily, in a voice that-I'm sure- was meant to keep me from being too frightened. It failed. "It was irresponsible of me, I agree. When I found out they had escaped, I scanned Stark Tower- and myself- for any sign of them. I then tracked their last report; they had found a suitable subject and were integrating themselves into its systems. I checked the time of that report, and realized that subject could only be you. I constructed that 'bracelet' as quickly as I could, then called you the only way I could; I ordered a pizza and waited for you to come. I only hoped _you_ would be the one to deliver it. Like I said, if the nanobots didn't receive orders in forty-eight hours, they would self-destruct."

"Well, that's no problem, right?" I asked, understanding a little more and liking it a lot less. "If they self-destructed, they'd just die, right? Become dormant? Nothing would happen, right?" I kept asking questions, desperate for them to be true. But the look on his face suggested that they were anything but.

He shook his head slowly. "Once you came into the general vicinity of Stark Tower, the nanobots received new orders, keeping you safe for another two days. But, if that had not happened, then the nanobots would have… exploded."

I gagged quietly, turning away in search of a trash can or something to throw up in. Like most people, I have a mortal fear of death. When I found nothing, I swallowed back bile, then turned to him. Looking him in the eye, I raged, _"EXPLODED?_"

He nodded solemnly. "That wouldn't normally be a problem, given how small they are, but with that many in your bloodstream… well, no one could survive it."

"But…but…" I raised my arm, gesturing to the silver band that rested on it. "But you said you made this to give them orders, right? Something like that. So I'm safe now, right? I'm safe?"

He shuffled a little, awkwardly. "For now. But I'd like to keep an eye on you, if you know what I'm saying. Just to make sure that the tech is working, and hopefully to get them out of you before anything happens."

My eyes went wide again. "Anything? Like _what?_"

"Natalie," he said my name in a slightly exasperated tone, "It's _weapons _tech. _Glitchy _weapons tech. I _don't know _what could happen."

I pressed my hand to my forehead in disbelief, muttering and shaking my head back and forth. "This isn't happening. This _can't _be happening."

"I know. I'm sorry, Natalie."

I looked at him. "How do I know you're telling the truth? How do I know this is all real, how do I know that you're not just lying to me?"

He lifted an eyebrow. "And why would I do that?"

"_I don't know! _But how do I know you're not, huh? What if you are? I… I have to know!"

He raised his hands a third and final time. "All right. All right, Natalie, I understand."

"Quit saying my name," I growled, unable to help myself. He nodded.

"All right. Ok. I can set up a scan. I can show you everything. Ok?"

I stared at him for a long time, then nodded slowly. "O-Okay." I stuttered quietly. He turned around and slowly, I followed.

* * *

I could bore you with a long, detailed explanation of the next few days, in which Tony finally got me to believe him, ran a bajillion tests, and talked a lot of technical nonsense that I had to de-nerd and translate in my head. But instead, I'll just say this.

My first impressions of him were both heightened and disproved on frequent occasions, especially seeing as I had to stay in the tower for the next few days for these tests to be run. I asked if we should just go to a hospital, but he scoffed, countering with a question of how they could possibly know more about this than him, and I shut up after that.

The first day or two, I whined and complained about how I needed to get back to my job, how I was missing out on classes, how there was a 'real life' outside of these walls. He dealt with my complaints for a while, then finally stopped in the middle of a test, pulled a checkbook out of his pocket, wrote out a check and handed it to me. He called it 'compensation' for my troubles and said that I was to tell absolutely no one about this. Let me tell you, to be a college student who's lived with their mother for the past nineteen years of her life, working in pizza delivery and scraping together a meager living… the number on that check was both insulting and incredibly tempting. Again, I shut up. I also quit my job the next day.

By around day three, it became clear to Tony that he wouldn't be able to remove the nanobots. By around day seven, it became clear to _me. _

And that, I think, is where the story starts again.

"Whaddya _mean, _you can't get them out of me?"

Tony shrugged helplessly. "I mean, there's nothing I can do." He pinched the bridge of his nose; admitting defeat was not easy for him to do. "Look. I'm going to try and call in a colleague of mine. Maybe he can help, maybe he can't. But we can try."

I looked at him. "So why aren't you calling him? Right now?" I took his shoulders and forcibly turned him around, shoving him forwards-towards the phone- as he protested. "Call! Do it! Now, Stark!"

"It is not- ow! - that simple!" he objected, turning to face me again, rolling his arm across both of mine with the movement, so that it flung them aside. "Look. This guy… he's not exactly… _reliable. _There's only one way I know to contact him, and that's through… well, it's not the safest… I mean…" he hesitated, looking me up and down. "I mean, it's _dangerous, _Nat."

I scowled; not only at the use of the nickname I'd told him not to use (it makes me sound like a bug!), but also at what he was saying. "What do you mean, 'dangerous'?"

He pressed his lips together, mashing them into a hard line. He opened his mouth, making wild gestures with his hands, as though trying to speak, then shut it again. He took his chin in his hands, regarding me carefully. Then he said, "Look. This colleague and I… we met through an… organization of sorts. And they're the only way I know to get through to him. But, if they found out about _you, _and about what _happened _to you… I'm not sure what they would do."

My eyes narrowed. "What? Like… they might try to hurt me because of these nanobots? Why? I'm keeping quiet about it, I don't know how they work or anything… Why would they…?"

He looked away, a little awkward. I studied him intently, mercilessly. "What aren't you telling me, Tony?" I asked.

He bit his lip, looking back to me. "I haven't… been entirely… honest with you. This organization, S.H.I.E.L.D… They… They're the ones who asked me… _hired _me to build those nanobots. And… well… they're classified. _Extremely _classified."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Basically… you know too much." He concluded with a helpless shrug.

The other eyebrow joined the first. "Unbelievable."

"What?"

"Un-frickin'-_believable." _I laughed aloud, a little hysterical. "I can't _believe _you, Stark! Not only did you manage to put little, exploding alien robots into my bloodstream, but they also have to be _classified _explodingalien robots, that could get me _killed _just for _knowing about them!_ You are incredible, Stark, you really are!" I turned away, stamping my foot as I went. "If you can't call this guy, then you'd better get these little creeps out of my bloodstream _yourself!_ Understood?"

I stamped out of the room, my head spinning, my stomach dropping to my feet. I headed off to another room; the one that we had unofficially designated as 'mine'. It just didn't stop. I'd finally accepted the idea that I had little metal bugs crawling around inside me, and now there was the possibility that I would have them inside me… forever. That or die. Or be tied up to some table while this 'organization' whatchamacallit did tests and crap; and I doubted they would be quite as kind about it as Stark. And he was bad enough as it was.

I looked at the bracelet on my wrist, running my fingers along it. Tony had given me a few pointers on the thing; it kept up a constant live feed with the nanobots, so, as long as nothing else went wrong-and with my luck, it invariably would- it would keep them from self-destructing. But it did more than that, apparently; it was an interface between myself and the little crawly bug things. It gave them orders direct from me; translated my spoken commands and whatnot. Tony had gradually been showing me the ropes; and now I knew why. Because it was highly likely that I would never get these things out of me, and I would have to learn to live with them.

Still, I had to admit, they had their uses. They did boost the immune system, apparently, but they also helped with other things. I felt slightly stronger, faster, more agile. But that wasn't all.

Apparently, I was also indestructible.

A temperamental little ability that these things gave me, but if I could make it work… I could see why this 'S.H.I.E.L.D' wanted to get their hands on tech like this. _Technically, _I wasn't the one who was indestructible. When my heart reached a certain rate and my adrenaline levels spiked in a certain way, it was like a bubble around me; a bubble that didn't extend too far away, but definitely encompassed me entirely. Tony said that he'd tested it with the strongest substance known to him-something about a 'Mjolnir'- and that it didn't even crack. It was awesome to know that I had that kind of power, but it was a pain in the ass when Tony made me activate it, and it didn't go away for almost twelve hours. During that time, I couldn't touch _anything. _I couldn't eat, I couldn't pee, I couldn't even turn on the TV. Anything that came within about three feet of me got crushed.

I quickly proceeded to walk right next to a few of Tony's old Iron Man armors. It was a blast.

Still, by the time it finally wore off, I was starving, and I had to go pee _right away or else. _Not to mention the fact that the air got pretty thin in there, despite a slight gap that allowed air (the only weak spot, though it did move about).

Afterwards, I made sure Tony got the idea to _never make me do that again. _He'd agreed, but told me that it would be a good idea to try and work with this power anyway, just to get a little experience with it. With practice and a little luck, he said, I should be able to turn it on and off with ease. I wasn't going to take the chance.

Once inside my room, I fell back on the bed, staring at the ceiling for a long time. I felt sick. I was getting really tired of a certain superhero, I was missing my mother a bit (not a lot, but a bit. I'd told her that I was away for a few days, and not to worry, but I knew her. She'd worry anyway). To be honest, I was really just missing… _home. _

I sighed and picked up one of the little glass tablets that Tony had given me; a miniaturized computer in and of itself, and a handy little thing. Given his interest in me, and the fact that he now knew almost everything about me, I had taken it upon myself to learn everything I could about _him. _But a person can only learn so much, and I was running out of reading material quickly. The truth was, beyond all of the gossip rags, the fact that he was Iron Man, and his arrogant personality… Little was known about him. Tony knew how to keep a secret.

For instance, there was this big problem back in Manhattan, with some massive alien army or something. And Tony-or rather, Iron Man- was there, helping to clean up the mess, along with a bunch of other masked freaks.

At least, that was the rumor. That's what witnesses said. But of that entire incident, not one of the masked heroes had come out and spoken about it, Iron Man included. He'd hidden it with some bullshit about a personal matter he was going through, and the big 'scandal' that happened a few days later was just a little too convenient for my liking. He'd kept the paparazzi off of his back by… well, by giving them a better story. He was clever. Too clever.

I still didn't like him.

I sighed and flicked the transcripts-some of which I'd memorized- into Danish. My teacher had suggested reading and listening to it whenever possible, after all. I scanned the pages quickly, trying to pick up what few words I knew; I'd already taken a year, but that was almost nothing, considering the pathetic way that languages were taught. I still didn't know how to ask for gas money, or how to say, _help me, help me, oh for the love of sanity, please, please help me, I will die if you do not help me. _Nothing along those lines; you'd think that would be their first priority. I did know how to ask a person's name though. That'll be pretty useful if I find myself bleeding out on the ground and some random Danish stranger starts poking at my body.

I snickered to myself and set the computer pad aside. Well, thank goodness for distractions, but it couldn't keep my mind off of everything for long. I glowered at the ceiling for a while, then sat up. I was so _bored._ Bored and anxious.

And hungry. I went outside of my room, out to the hallway, and crossed a few doors into the kitchen. I raided Tony's fridge, feeling absolutely no guilt. This man had put creepy crawlies into my bloodstream, the least he could do is pay for my lunch.

I took some string cheese, tucking a few into my pocket and gnawing thoughtfully on another, not bothering to actually split it apart into… well, strings. I headed back to Tony's lab; it had been an hour already. If he hadn't called me yet, I knew he would soon, so I saved him the trouble. Despite how I'd stormed out of the room, I'd calmed down just a bit since then; a bit, mind you.

"Ah, Natalie. Good. You're here." He turned to me. "I think… I think we have no choice but to ask my colleague about this. To see if he can help. And I know what you're going to say, but I won't mention you, and we'll try and keep everything secret…"

I raised my hand to keep him from speaking. "Shut it, Stark. It's fine, whatever, call who you have to." I rolled my eyes. "Things can't exactly get any worse."

He nodded quickly, looking a bit relieved. "That's true," he agreed. I gave him one of my best death glares and leaned against one of his tables. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, dialed a number, and started out the door. I heard him speaking as he left; someone must have answered. I stayed put; this was not a conversation I wanted to hear. My stomach was already twisting, my heart pounding again. Ugh, it was like handing yourself over to the enemy on a silver platter…

"Ms. Frost?" A voice came from thin air; a week ago, I would've jumped and ran from the building, screaming about ghosts. Now, however, it's become almost commonplace. "Mr. Stark requested that I keep watch of your vitals, and warn you when your heart rate and adrenaline levels accelerate past a certain point."

"Oh," I say, immediately taking a deep breath, trying to calm my heart's rapid beating. "Yah. Thanks, JARVIS."

"You're welcome, Ms. Frost."

"Natalie," I corrected, pulling some more string cheese from my pocket and tossing the wrapper towards the trash. I missed completely, of course; I cursed quietly.

"As you wish, Ms. Natalie."

I glared at the ceiling; probably not where JARVIS was, but when you hear a disembodied voice, you tend to look up, no matter where it's really coming from. At least, _I _think you would; I'm not exactly experienced with disembodied voices. "Are you always this annoying?"

"Mr. Stark seems to think so, Ms. Natalie."

I grinned. Sarcastic little computer. "Good. I like you, JARVIS."

"That is appreciated, Ms. Natalie."

"Ok, quit saying my name now."

"As you wish."

I grinned again, walking over to the computers quietly. I scanned the screens; through a lot of techno-words and geek-speak, I managed to translate a bit of what was happening. Until I reached the math portions, at least; math hates me, and holds a personal vendetta against me. It has since I was in the third grade and butchered one of my tests. I don't even know what the hell I wrote on that thing, but apparently, math got offended.

I scanned the wordy section. _"Subject's condition has not improved since… yadda, yadda, science, science, something about Pink Floyd… _Hmm."

"Are you having trouble reading the selection, Ms. Natalie? Shall I read it aloud for you?"

How can a machine sound so condescending? And why wasn't he shutting up with my name? "No, thank you, _Mr_. JARVIS. I'm doing just fine on my own." I looked back to the screen, my eyes flicking over the words. Sheesh, forget Danish. If I spend enough time with Tony, I'll start being able to speak Nerdese.

"_Require possible scan of the something, something…" _I started stringing the stick of mozzarella, studying the glowing screen intently as I lowered strings of cheese into my mouth. "_Subject needs to manage certain impulse control issues…_ Hey!" I recognized that one; those psych classes were paying off. I kept reading. "_Or risk possible… _Meltdowns? … _The hell?_"

I scrolled down, then glared at the tiny screen. "JARVIS, pull this up to full view," I ordered.

"Of course," he answered, and an enormous hologram burst into life in the center of the room, depicting two pages of notes at once. I flicked my finger across the screen, where a crude sketch of a person surrounded by a bubble was depicted; though how he got that sketch onto the computer escaped me. The bubble was quite literally crushing all in its path.

"Oh," I said, relieved. "I knew that already." I flicked through the pages, stopping whenever I saw words like 'the subject'. _"The subject needs to blah, blah… consult JARVIS on possible head trauma caused by nanos… gamma radiation may be the key to something, something, nerd, nerd, math, more math, some more frickin' math… subject needs to stay away from my cheese…" _I pulled back, looking at the string cheese in my hand a little guiltily. I shook off the guilt _real _quick. "JARVIS, put a note here. 'Mad scientist needs to give subject all the cheese she wants, because mad scientist got her into this mess in the first place.'"

There was a beep. "Noted."

I looked back to the screen, but my scanning stopped as Tony said behind me, "You might not like what you read."

Unabashed by the fact that he'd caught me snooping- and editing his notes- I turned to face him. "I don't like anything about this place," I responded.

He smiled and winked roguishly. "Not even me?"

"Especially not you," I answered acidly. "My dog is a better person than you, Stark."

"Well, dogs are better than most people," he answered, shrugging.

"Tell me about it," I rolled my eyes as I walked out of the room. He followed. "Did you get in touch with that… what did you call it? S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"Yes." He looked down, a little worriedly. "I tried to keep from telling them anything, but I'm sure they suspected one thing or another. Hopefully we'll get those things out of you before they can find anything out."

"There's no _"hopefully"_ about it. If I go down, I'm bringing you with me. Keep that in mind."

"Duly noted." He shot me a smirk. "I called Banner- my colleague- and, while he wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea, he's agreed to help. He'll be here in a day or so."

I hid my relief. "Good. So you don't have to run any more tests between now and then, right? You'll leave me alone?"

He rolled his eyes. "Ah, gee, it's nice to know you care about me so much."

"Trust me; for me, this _is _caring." I flipped my hair over my shoulder and stalked past him. "I want to be left alone for the next twenty-four hours, understood?"

He rolled his eyes again. "Understood," he agreed.

**Author's Note: I know, I know, the whole scene where he explained about the nanobots was rushed and awful. I'm sorry, ok? I meant to make it better, but I couldn't think how so… deal with it. This is fanfiction, and you aren't paying me. Heck, most of you aren't even reviewing. (You know who you are.) **

** But, to the one person who _did _review: THANK YOU. If not for you, I doubt I would have even bothered to post another chapter, and this story would have died with a lot of others. So… you are awesome sauce. Please don't send Hulk after me. Area 52 might have to get involved, and since they don't really get along with S.H.I.E.L.D. already… things might get messy. **

** Also, I used an online translator for the Spanish/Danish phrases, so I might have some grammar/spelling/other mistakes. **

** The end! **


	3. People I Wish I Didn't Know

Tony kept good on his promise; he left me entirely alone for the next twenty-four hours; but man, once that was up, all of that peace and quiet was over. I mean, he gave me a few extra hours to sleep, but it was five in the morning when his voice came over the com system, shattering me out of my peaceful dreaming.

"Rise and shine, Pizza Girl! Banner will be here in a few hours; get up, get dressed, get breakfast!"

I pulled my pillow over my head, using it to cover my ears, mumbling into the mattress, "Go to hell, Stark!"

"And after I made you pancakes!"

"I'll bet they taste like crap."

"Probably. Get down here anyway." There was a crackle of static as the line was cut. Now that pancakes had been mentioned, my stomach grumbled; irritated, I pulled myself out of bed, rubbing the back of my head and glancing to the mirror. The person who stared back at me looked like me, only more tired, thinner, and all-around awful. My hair was a mess around my head; I combed through it with my fingers, and gave up after a minute.

I dressed quickly, the standard fare- jeans, a tank top, and a short sleeved sweater- ran a brush through my hopelessly entangled hair, then went down the stairs to the second of Tony's five kitchens in the tower. I assumed this was the one he wanted me in, given the fact that he'd said 'get down here'.

He smiled at me from the table; an enormous stack of misshapen pancakes and a bottle of syrup sat in front of him. Lifting an eyebrow, I sat across from him, grabbing a plate, then put two pancakes on it, drizzled as much syrup as I thought I could get away with onto it, and dug in.

"Not bad, Stark," I admitted after swallowing. He shrugged.

"I try," he answered with false modesty.

The two of us were silent for a long moment; then, finally, I asked, "So this… Banner. What's he like?"

He considered for a long moment, rubbing his fingers along his jaw line thoughtfully. "He's brilliant." Then he smiled to himself, as though thinking of a private joke. "Just… don't get him angry."

Stabbing my pancakes, I glowered at him. "Stark, let me clue you in to something. I'm a _psych_ student. This three-word explanation about a person might get other people off your back, but _not me. _If I can't get a full psychological profile, I at least want some _detail. _So he's got a few anger issues; there's got to be something more to him than that."

"You'd think so, wouldn't you?" He mused; having finished his own pancakes, he washed syrup off the plate and left it in the sink. "When you're finished, meet me in the lab, all right? I have a few tests to run before he gets here."

I grunted out something that sounded like an affirmative and stuffed my mouth with second-rate pancakes. Tony smiled and exited while I wondered vaguely why he had bothered to cook; usually he wouldn't do such trivial things. I glanced at the kitchen; it was too spotless for anyone to have cooked here, let alone an inexperienced chef.

I smiled wryly to myself. "JARVIS?"

"Yes, Ms. Natalie?" His cool, computerized voice inquired.

"Can you pull up the footage of Stark's security cameras in the kitchens from this morning?"

"Of course," he answered politely, and a few holographic screens flared into life in front of me. That certainly was nifty. I gnawed carefully on a syrup-soaked chunk of pancake and studied the footage; as suspected, Tony was not cooking in the kitchen I was currently eating in.

Also as suspected, when he left that kitchen, there was a mess left behind.

I grinned, and instructed JARVIS to enlarge the image. He obeyed, and I watched, wearing a smirk. Well, he was trying to make amends. And while pancakes certainly weren't going to make me like him, they did make me hate him just a little less.

After Tony left, the picture seemed frozen- seeing as nothing was happening. But the numbers in the corner ticked and flashed past at a speedy pace, faster than real time. I was about to tell JARVIS to kill the feed when something in the corner of the screen caught my eye.

It was a dark, humanoid shape; I lifted an eyebrow. Another friend of Stark's, staying in the tower? Doubtful. He hadn't really left the tower long enough to bring someone else over, hadn't really left me alone long enough to invite them here. My eyes narrowed on the fuzzy black shape in confusion.

"JARVIS? Slow the video feed."

There was a _blip _as he obeyed. The black shape stayed where it was for a long time, hovering on the edges of the camera's perception, so that I could barely see it, let alone make out any details. Then slowly, surely, it started towards the center of the kitchen, its features gradually clearing, defining themselves into that of a man. A good-looking man, with dark hair slicked back against his head, and a sharp intensity in his eyes- the color of which I could not see through the incessant blue of the hologram. He was skinny, with a long coat that fell down to his knees and a strange way of moving… slowly, calculating, always calculating…

I tried to open my mouth to say something; to call Tony, perhaps, or to tell JARVIS to freeze the image. Something. But I found myself almost paralyzed; who was this man? Why was he here?

He looked around disdainfully at the messy kitchen, slowly meandering around, like a man with all of the time in the world.

Then, as I watched, his eyes flicked straight up and locked on mine.

I backed away immediately, but there was no point; instantaneously, the camera burst into static. My throat seemed to become unglued, and as I backed away-knocking over my chair as I did so- I said, "JARVIS, rewind picture about twenty seconds."

He obeyed; the static cleared, and the man appeared on the screen again. The video played, and I waited until his eyes hit mine again-still, amazingly, dead on- and said, "Freeze picture." It froze. "JARVIS, who is that?"

There was a moment of silence, followed by a _bleep. _"There is no one in the picture, Ms. Natalie."

"What?" I couldn't even frown; I couldn't comprehend what he was saying. I couldn't even comprehend what was happening; I was struggling to hold back laughter, such was my shock and anxiety. "No, JARVIS, that man, right there." I pointed; his eyes remained on mine. I couldn't look away, no matter what I did. "Who is he? How did he get into Stark Tower?"

"There is no one in the picture, Ms. Natalie," JARVIS repeated, in the _humans-are-so-incredibly-slow _tone that only he can manage. "Shall I call Mr. Stark to confirm?"

"You do that," I answered, mumbling something about glitches, still staring at the screen. I tried to avert my eyes, to look somewhere else, but those eyes were so… so…

_So blue. _

As I stared, I realized I could see it. Even if the hologram was interfering, I could tell those eyes were blue; the palest, bluest blue you would ever see. So blue, so intense, so dark… I kept staring. So…

_Alone. _

_ I'm so alone. _

The feelings gripped me like a vise; as though they were my own, surrounding me and smothering me, originating from _my _heart. _So alone, so ancient, so tired… so dark… So many dark things, so many dark thoughts. Save me from this, save me from the dark, save me from __**my **__dark…_

"Nat?"

I was jolted out of these feelings by Tony's voice; I turned to him quickly, almost guiltily (though I was unsure of why). I shook my head out quickly, trying to clear it. "Good. You're here. Your stupid computer says that there's no one in…" I turned back to the hologram and froze.

There was no one there. Just the kitchen, with the mess of Tony's cooking dripping down the sides of the counter, egg splashing in steady, slippery drops to the floor. I tried to finish my statement, but couldn't; it choked off in the back of my throat.

_The hell…?_

I looked back to Tony; he was looking back, worriedly. "Are you ok, Natalie?"

Once again, I turned to the frozen picture, blinking a few times. "Yeah…" I said slowly. "Yeah, I'm fine."

He smiled at me, but it seemed forced. Strained. "All right, then. Come on, let's go run those tests."

"S…Sure." I followed, glancing behind me a final time. Still, there was no one.

If only I'd known…

* * *

"May I asked why you gave these things-which were designed to go into a human body- a self destruct that causes them to explode?" Bruce Banner inquired politely, tapping a few buttons on the glass screen in front of him. I sat on a nearby bed that looked as though it had come straight out of a hospital (it probably had) with my feet dangling over the edge, kicking back and forth.

I grinned widely. "Thank you!" I exclaimed. "That's exactly what I've been saying all along!"

"Natalie Frost, in the nine days that you have been at Stark Tower, never _once _have I heard you ask me that!" Tony protested, peering around his own glass screen. I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Yeah, but I _thought _it. You're a genius, you should be able to read minds, shouldn't you?"

"Read _your _mind? I dread to think what horrors lie in there."

I gave him my biggest, creepiest smile. "Be afraid, Stark. Be very afraid."

Banner watched us both in bemusement. "Do you two ever shut up?" He asked mildly. Tony and I exchanged a look.

"Not really, no," he answered at the same time I said, "I understand not your foreign speak." Banner smiled lightly and turned back to his screen as I glared daggers at Tony, who ignored me pointedly.

There was a moment of silence, then Banner spoke again, back to his original subject. "Honestly, though. Why not simply have them shut down, or deactivate their source of power, or something simple? Why explosives?"

Tony rolled his eyes. He'd been getting crap from both of us for the past few hours. I was really starting to like Bruce Banner. And he was incredibly gorgeous, too; which lead me to wonder how he'd met Tony Stark. Did beautiful people just roam the planet in herds or something? They seemed to stick to each other like glue; or find each other in some way or another.

"I was not intending to test them on any living creature for quite some time," Tony defended himself bravely. "I figured that, by the time I'd have to worry about _that, _then I would work on a more effective system."

"Botched _that _one up pretty well, didn't you?" I asked. "For a smart guy, you're pretty damn stupid, you know that?"

"So help me, pizza girl, if you say one more word, I'm getting that armor out."

"Ooh, I'm scared," I answered acidly, then made my voice as high-pitched as I could. "Help me! Help me! The big bad genius is going to make explosive nanobots that are supposed to help people and stick 'em in my blood, then force me to wear a stupid hospital gown that will _not_ stay closed in the back!" at the last part of the sentence, my hospital gown had actually been slipping open, and I let out a long stream of curses -a mix of the three languages I knew/was learning- as I re-tied the straps. "Honestly!" I brought my voice back to normal. "Whoever invented these things needs to be dragged out into the street and shot!"

Tony rolled his eyes again. "That wasn't my fault. I just bought it from the hospital; blame them."

"I already have, on frequent occasions. But _you _bought the thing, and _you _are rich. You could have- _should _have- done some quality control."

Bruce continued to watch us with a quiet fascination, continuing his work in relative silence. Tony and I bickered like this for quite a while, with Bruce putting his input in occasionally- he was usually on my side, as he typically went with whatever was fair, and I always had a good point- until finally I ended up with Tony chasing me with a needle. He claimed to need a blood sample, but he knew how much I was afraid of the things, so I didn't buy it.

We finally got Bruce to laugh as Tony first chased me _out _of the room, needle in hand, and I chased him back _into _the room, holding a chair above my head. He split us up, declared me the unofficial winner, led me back to the bed and sent Tony back to his screen.

"She's a rather hostile person, isn't she?" he mused to Tony after I sat, folding my arms over my chest. I eyed him carefully as he said this; there was a good-natured smile on his face, but I remembered then that Tony had said Banner had 'anger issues'. He kept it pretty much under control, from what I could see. In fact, he seemed so even-tempered that I would never have guessed as such.

Still, the fact that he remarked on my 'hostility'… it raised some questions in my hopefully-soon-to-be-psych-major mind. I kept an eye on him for the rest of the day, making note of every one of his reactions.

But _his _reactions were not the interesting ones. Rather, it was Tony who I gleaned the most information from; though what I was going to do with that information, I had no idea. Throughout the day, Tony made jokes about Bruce getting angry-most of which I didn't understand. But when it came right down to it, if Bruce ever raised his voice above his usual level, I would see something unusual in Tony. Sometimes his eyes would dart to Bruce almost excitedly, as though waiting for something spectacular to happen. Sometimes, he would automatically reach for the controls for his armor. And, on rare but interesting occasions, he would flinch.

The two, as I'd already partially known, had some past history; that much was obvious. But it had to do with something about Bruce getting angry, and something bad, because I'd _never _seen Tony flinch like that…

But he still seemed like a fairly nice guy; I got along with him pretty well, but mostly because he agreed with me. And, more importantly, he disagreed with Tony.

By the end of the day, though I still knew fairly little about him, I decided that I liked Bruce Banner.

Perhaps enough to talk to him about… Well…

I waited until Tony went to bed. It was a long wait, let me tell you; geniuses, apparently, never sleep. I can't tell you how many times he made me stay awake until two or three in the morning while he did his tests, then woke me up _extremely _early the next day to do some more. However, today-thankfully- he went to bed earlier than Bruce (still a lot later than I usually like to stay up, but whatever. I'm a college student. I've stayed up later). So, finally, I got a chance to speak with him.

We were quiet for a long time; with the absence of Tony's annoying voice and our constant fighting, the room had become downright peaceful. Banner seemed to notice the silence as well; smiling at me through the reflection on his glass screen, he asked, "Nothing to say?"

"Not really," I said, then almost smacked myself in the face. That would've been the perfect opportunity, and I blew it. Why the hell does my mouth speak before my brain gets a chance to clear up what it wants to say? He turned back to his work, and I kicked my legs about restlessly. I had to get this over with and go to bed; I was _exhausted. _

"Well…" I interrupted him. He half-turned to me. "Actually… there's something I wanted to ask you."

"Oh?" He turned around completely. I liked that about him, too; he paid attention when I spoke. Even when he was working at the same time, he actually articulated intelligent responses to what I was saying; unlike Tony, who once didn't notice that I was cussing him out for a full fifteen minutes.

"Yeah," I said slowly, rubbing the back of my head awkwardly. "I was wondering… is there any way these nano things might be screwing with my brain?" At his raised eyebrow, I added, "It's just… I thought I saw something earlier. Something that wasn't really there, and… well, it's kinda freaking me out. It'd be nice if I can classify one crazy thing with the other."

He nodded slowly, considering. "Well…" he said slowly, "Stark's notes did indicate something about possible neural trauma."

"Uh-huh." I said in response, gesturing vaguely for him to continue.

He shrugged. "It's a very minute possibility. They weren't designed to go anywhere near the brain; but you did have some… strange brainwave activity. Nothing more than a blip; he ran the test again and got an entirely different result. He put it down to computer error, but if you're seeing things…"

I scowled. "I'm not _seeing things…_" he gave me a look and waited for me to realize the stupidity of that statement. "All right, so I'm seeing things. What of it?"

"We'll have to run the test again to be certain, but it's possible that something might have gone wrong, and that they are starting to affect your mind. But I can't say for certain."

I bit my lip, trying to digest that. "All… All right. Thanks, Banner."

"Bruce is fine," he said with a light smile, returning to his work. I smiled back, though he could no longer see it, and started towards the door. Just as I was almost out, he called, "Oh, Natalie?"

I turned. He gave me a strange look; one I couldn't really identify. "Yeah?"

He frowned, considered his words, then said, "We're going to try and get those things out of you. But there are no guarantees. You know that, right?"

I looked at him. Well, that was unexpected. But I'm thankful for it, anyway; Tony, while a smartass- oops, I mean _genius- _isn't really the most honest of people. He keeps telling me it's possible, then telling me he can't do it, then telling me it's possible… urgh. The man annoys me. "Yeah. Yeah, I understand."

He nodded and turned back to the screen again. I left the room, off to go to sleep.

* * *

_Faster and faster, run into the coming night. Faster and faster, run into your dawning fright. _

_ Faster and faster, I'll see the Frost at first light…_

My eyes opened slowly, the light streaming painfully through my eyelids. I shielded them and sat up, looking around. Yep, still in my room. Still in Stark Tower. Still not home. I rubbed my temples painfully; this was getting pathetic.

As much as Bruce was a welcome change of pace, even he became a little irritating after about two weeks. We assumed we were in the clear of S.H.I.E.L.D., since they never arrived to question Tony about his sudden interest in his 'old colleague'. I still wasn't so certain; it was easy enough for them to dismiss it. They weren't the ones who would die a possibly painful death if I was discovered.

I brushed my hair, staring into the mirror. Yep, it was morning; I always looked awful in the morning. These days, though, it seemed almost worse. I woke up with strange pains in random places, and always felt sick during the day; Tony said it had something to do with the nanobots, that they were working on stabilizing them before they tried to remove them, etc. etc. But Bruce kept giving me these strangely pitying looks; pretty much my first clue that neither of them knew what the heck was going to happen next, or if they'd ever get them out of me for good.

Despite the fact that my hair was now nice and tidy, I completely ignored everything else, shuffling out of the room in my pjs. These days, I usually had to dress in that ridiculous hospital gown anyway, so I didn't bother getting dressed, and showered at night instead of the morning so I could keep my pajamas on.

I went straight for the labs, skipping breakfast; I wasn't hungry, anyway. I still wanted to sleep again, but I doubted I could, what with all of the dreams. Random quotes, poetry, a feeling of being so incredibly old and alone… always accompanied by those ice-blue eyes…

But the two science geeks had run their tests again; there was nothing wrong with me. Nothing that they could see. Still, that man continued to plague my dreams, and occasionally my waking hours as well. He once walked right past me in the hallway, smirking at me a little, then moving on. I tried to tell Tony and Bruce, who just scanned me again, but again there was nothing. Soon, it became quite clear through the looks they gave me that they were questioning my sanity; and I didn't blame them. I was too, after all. But after that I shut up about it, never mentioning the man to either of them.

I walked to the lab, picked up the journal that Tony had been so kind to provide, and started to sketch things onto it, sitting on the hospital bed despite the fact that neither of them were there yet. I had a few sketches of the man already, and while my artwork left something to be desired, he was certainly recognizable as the person who'd haunted me so frequently these days.

He wasn't the only thing I sketched, though. Sometimes I'd draw out my mother, or my dog. On those very, _very _rare occasions, I would make a quick line drawing of my dad, but I usually ended up ripping those out and throwing them away. I never got his face right, anyway.

I was there for only a few minutes when Tony suddenly burst into the room, panic in his eyes. "Hide!" He hissed through his teeth, shoving me off the bed and towards a closet in the corner of the room. He wrenched open the doors and found it was stuffed full of equipment; no good.

"What?" I asked, dropping my voice. "What is it?"

Tony just shook his head quickly, shushing me, then ran out of the room. He looked both ways down the hall, then beckoned to me fiercely. I obeyed, my heart pounding.

"Miss Natalie, your heart rate is reaching it's critical-" JARVIS started to say, but Tony made a few violent motions with his hands, and after a moment, the machine shut up. I tried to slow my heart down; whatever was happening, I did _not _want that crazy indestructible bubble showing up right now and making things worse.

Unless this was a prank on Tony's part, in an attempt to force that ability to start again. I didn't put it past him, and I watched him with narrowed eyes. But the panic in his own eyes was real; I couldn't doubt it.

He gripped my wrist so tightly it was almost painful, then dragged me into the next room quickly. "S.H.I.E.L.D.," He whispered, gesturing to one of the many video screens as we ran. This one depicted the outside world; I saw Banner talking with three men. Two were in suits and sunglasses, and the third-who was vaguely familiar- was wearing a black trench coat and an eye patch. Banner seemed to be stalling, and my heart plummeted to my stomach. Banner wouldn't go along with this. He was a reasonable guy, and he wouldn't want me to do anything I wouldn't want to; and that included becoming indestructible. He wasn't going to try and trick me.

Tony yanked on my arm harder and pulled me into a room, shoving me into the closet there; it was totally empty. Another room that was just sort of 'there' in the Stark Tower, with no real use; there were a number of those.

"Wait here," he said, his eyes darting about, and he closed the door so hard that it bounced back open. I pulled it shut again, waving a hand quickly and mouthing _'go!' _as I did so. Leaving the faintest of slivers open, I pressed my ear to the door and did my best to slow my breathing. I could practically feel the adrenaline pumping in my veins; I had to calm down _now_ or it was bye bye hiding place. That little bubble of mine would crush everything in its path.

Realizing that I could hear absolutely _nothing _past the sound of Tony's fading footsteps, I pulled the door shut again. S.H.I.E.L.D wouldn't search the whole of Stark Tower, would they? There were way too many rooms for that, particularly for just three guys. I peered at my hands, which stood out only as vague shapes in the gloom. They were shaking- badly. I tried to slow the trembling.

Now, let me tell you a little something about me. I don't have a problem with the dark. I don't have a problem with small spaces. But when you have dark, small spaces? I completely lose it. It's a little fact about myself that I didn't realize until just that moment. I gulped down air like it was a precious commodity, like I would never breathe again. My hands scrabbled at the wood in desperation; where was the door? Where the _hell _was the door? I had to open it, just a crack, just so I could get enough air, just so I could _see… _

I whimpered in the back of my throat and curled in on myself. No. I couldn't lose it here. I couldn't break down. My very life rested on me _calming down right now. _If I didn't get my heart rate down, if I didn't purge the adrenaline from my system, I was _dead. _The guys from S.H.I.E.L.D. would almost certainly hear the closet around me breaking apart, and that was it. They would find me, they would wait until my little bubble had faded, then do all sorts of hideous tests and vivisections and crap on me and I would _die. _

Now, I doubt that you have ever been in this situation. I've talked with a few people about it, and they said they have; but then, I hang out with freaks, agents, and superheroes, (and some who are all three) so that's a bit of a moot point. But let me tell you, it is next to _impossible. _If you've ever had a gun in your face, or have stared your own mortality in the eye… it's not something you can calm away by counting to ten and thinking of relaxing beaches.

I took a few slow, deep breaths. I closed my eyes and tried to think of other things. I repeated an old mantra in my head: _Nothing to fear but fear itself. _But it wasn't working.

I had seconds.

I could practically feel the bots buzzing in my veins.

And that's when I heard it.

_No, Miss Frost. It's too soon for this. It can not be now._

I shivered, gulping down the air-which I was sure was getting thinner. _Wh-What? _Even my thoughts were stammering and shaky.

The voice whispered and echoed around in my head; a soft, smooth, beautiful voice. _You are safe. No matter what happens now, you are safe. _

I swallowed painfully; my throat was hoarse from my hyperventilation, but- to my amazement- my heart _was _slowing. I couldn't understand it, couldn't explain it, but that voice was keeping me calm. _Who… what…? _I still couldn't form a comprehensive thought.

_Don't you remember me? _The voice asked gently, and a flash of blue eyes flared behind my own eyelids. I should've jumped, I should've been scared… but I wasn't. I wasn't at all.

It was him. It had to be him. The man I'd been seeing in my dreams, in my waking moments. The hallucination; but even if that was all he was, and even if I _was _going crazy, right now that hallucination was saving my hide, so I wasn't going to complain.

_I remember, _I finally managed to say. _What… what should I…? I mean…_

I could hear the smile in his voice. _Trust me, _he breathed.

_But I…_

_ Just trust me, Natalie Frost. _

I swallowed again, cradling my shaking hands against my stomach. I didn't respond, but I didn't object, either. I closed my eyes. _Say something, _I asked, a little desperately.

_What do you want me to say?_

_ I don't know. Anything. Just… keep talking. _I felt no embarrassment in asking a random stranger to keep talking, though I felt it would be a bit creepy to add that I liked the sound of his voice; and in both cases it was because he was imaginary, he didn't exist. If he was just in my head, there was nothing to be embarrassed about; though it would be a little strange for me to tell the man in my head that I liked the sound of his voice. All I knew at that moment, however, was that it was calming me down. And that was what I needed; to keep calm. To do whatever I could to stay _calm. _

_ All right, _he said in that beautifully soothing voice of his. Telling me I was safe. Keeping me composed. Too good to be true.

_All right, Natalie, _he repeated. _Shall I tell you a story?_

I scowled. _Now you're just making fun of me. _

_ I had hoped it would make you smile._

_ Wow, what a jerk._

_ Do you feel calmer?_

_ Oddly enough, yes._

_ Then it worked, didn't it? _

_ You're still a jerk._

_ And you're still safe. _There was a long pause, then his voice started a quiet monologue in my head; a collection of the random quotes and poetry I'd been hearing in my dreams the past few days. _A quiet dark, an unsettling time, a broken heart, a tired rhyme. A silent day, a measured hour, a saddened child, a father in power. _

My breathing slowed. My heart's beating became less erratic. I almost felt the bots returning to their normal duties, ignoring the pressing danger. Keeping my eyes closed, I rested my head against the back of the closet, and recited with him the poems that I had written down and memorized from those same dreams. _An endless dream, a restless sleep, a tear unseen, an unlocked keep. _

He chuckled quietly. _I'm surprised you remember._

_ I'm surprised you'd think I'd forget. _I sat there in the darkness, my eyes opening again. My heart had slowed considerably by now, and my hands-though still sweaty- were slowing in their frantic jittering. I stared at the opposite end of the closet, unable to see it. But it did not spark my newfound claustrophobia again.

_Who are you? _I asked after a moment, because I couldn't help but want to know. He did not answer for a long time; so long that I thought he'd gone. I called out again in my head: _Hello?_

_ I'm here._

_ Who are you? _I repeated.

_A friend._

_ That's not an answer, _I growled.

_Then do not ask that question of me._

_ Ok, we've gone past calm and are now in the realm of annoying._

There was another long moment of silence, in which I heard only my heartbeat-still slow, thankfully- in my ears. Finally, in a voice so desolate I felt something inside me shatter, he replied.

_Alone. I am alone, Natalie Frost. _

And then he was gone; I _felt _him go, _felt _him leave. Like something had turned cold in my gut; my serenity did not vanish entirely, but it did diminish. A shiver ran down my spine.

I sat there in the silence for a long time, trying to remember his voice, but it faded, like any dream will. I wanted to get my hands on my sketchbook, to draw those eyes, to write down what he had said, but I couldn't. I could do nothing but sit in the dark and wait.

And wait I did. I waited for a long time; so long that my body grew cramped and stiff. So long that I could finally see everything in the darkness, so long that I lost all track of time. It could have been an hour or a day for all I knew; but I waited in silence, in the dark, and all alone.

When the door finally opened again, my eyes screamed in protest at the sudden burst of light, tears forced down my cheeks by the pain. I looked up, shielding my eyes with one hand, trying to make sense of the dim and darkened figure above me.

"Natalie." It was Tony's voice; I sighed in relief and got to my feet shakily. My legs felt like rubber, completely unwilling to respond to my command. I placed a hand on his shoulder and leaning on it to help myself stand, squinting in the bright light.

"They gone?" I asked; my voice was hoarse from the dust I had just been inhaling.

"Yes," he answered, a little impatiently. "Natalie…"

There was a warning note in his voice. I looked at him, barely able to make out his face through the pain. I caught sight of his intensely famous beard; so it was definitely him. "What is it?"

He held something up; I looked down at it. It took me a few moments of staring, but then I realized; my sketchbook. I had left it back in the lab and, in my rush to hide, had probably left it open. Oh, well, nothing I didn't mind him seeing, anyway…

"This man. How do you know him?" he inquired; there was a steely edge to his voice. That was rare for Tony. While I might get on his nerves from time to time, I'd rarely seen him truly angry or upset. But right now… that edge almost scared me.

I stared at the picture, willing the blurriness to clear. But there was only one man I'd ever drawn whose picture I hadn't thrown away immediately. So, even before the lines settled into a clear picture, I knew who he was talking about.

_Alone. _

The word rang in my head as I looked in the man's eyes. "That's him," I said quietly. "That's the man I've been seeing." I looked up at Tony, who had also cleared in my vision. "The one I told you about."

Tony grit his teeth and turned away. "Why?" I called after him. "Does that mean something to you?"

But he wasn't listening. He pressed a button on the doorway as he walked out of it, calling, "Bruce?"

I heard Banner's voice answer him over the intercom. "Yes?"

Dashing after Tony and barely keeping up, I demanded, "What's going on?"

Tony kept going, his long, loping strides hard to keep up with. "We've got a problem." His eyes went down to my sketchbook in his hands. "He's back."

**A/N: … Well, I'm sure most of you have guessed who Natalie's 'imaginary friend' is by now. Probably all of you. I mean, who else would it be, right? **

** There will be no Natalie/Imaginary Friend (in case one person hasn't guessed… unlikely but possible) romance in this, either. At least, not that I plan for. I can say nothing for my character's intentions; if they decide that there will be romance (between anyone) then they will beat me repeatedly with baseball bats until there is romance.I will have no choice in the matter. So… we shall see. **

**Thanks for reading/reviewing! **


	4. Q&A

I spent the next half hour being totally confused, while Bruce and Tony talked about a lot of things that didn't make sense. They started discussing plans to bring in 'the others', which totally drove me crazy, because no one would explain who the 'others' were or why they needed to be called in the first place.

The hour after that was spent in total, raging frustration as I was shoved out of the room and sent to my own. They said it was a personal matter, but I got a major 'adults-are-talking' vibe that seriously pissed me off. I mean, I was nineteen years old for crying out loud; almost twenty. I'd gotten that kind of cold shoulder from so-called 'adults' all my life, and I was kind of tired of it by this point.

I also had no idea what had happened with the guys from S.H.I.E.L.D., but I assumed that we were clear for now. Maybe they had done some searching around; that was probably how Tony found my book. Maybe he'd tried to hide it from them. Maybe… maybe, maybe, maybe! I wanted some _facts, _dammit!

Grumbling to myself, I paced in a circle around my room, wishing I could just get my hands on Stark for three seconds, and _make _him tell me everything… But I was being studiously ignored by both of the people who had promised to help me. It was driving me crazy.

_Don't let them take me away._

The thought popped into my head suddenly; and for a brief moment, I thought that it was _my _thought, that _I _was the one thinking it. And then I distinguished _his_ voice from the rest of the chaotic, jumbled mess that was my brain.

_Please, _he pleaded. _Natalie… It's so lonely here…_

I frowned. A part of me was overjoyed to have him back. I felt like I was almost… whole again. But another part of me- the more reasonable part, the part that had been burned way too many times- was too suspicious to hear anything. _Why are they scared of you?_

_ I did…I did something awful, Natalie. Something terrible._

_ What? What did you do?_

_ It was a long time ago, Natalie, it… I wish I hadn't… I wish that I could go back…_

_ **What did you do?**_

There was a long pause. Then, in a quiet, desperate whisper, _I hurt people, Natalie. _

I bit my lip, saying nothing in response.

_Please, Natalie…_ he begged.

_Stop saying my name,_ I answered curtly, cutting him off. I went across the room and sat down on my bed, trying to sort things out. _You're trying to gain sympathy, to identify with me. Just stop it, ok? _

_ O…Okay, _he promised meekly. I felt my gut twist. Something was very wrong here. Someone had been lying to me, and I was fairly certain it was my imaginary friend. I rested my elbows on my thighs, holding my chin in my hands, staring up at the mirror across from me.

_I would do anything to take it back,_ he said, and his voice was barely audible. _Absolutely anything. It's so lonely here, and so dark… I can't see anything. I've never been so alone…_

_ Yes, _I said coldly, allowing a more bitter side of myself to take over for a second. _But what did you __**do?**_

Silence.

_I killed people, _he answered at last, quietly, desperately, pleadingly. _So many people… How could I have done those things? How could I be such a monster…? _

_ Why? _I interrupted him again. _Why did you do it?_

He hesitated. _Why? _He breathed. _Because he didn't love me. My father… he didn't love me. And I thought, if I could just show him… if I could just show him that I was worthy of it… and then he spat in my face, and all I wanted was to show him that I was… that I was __**better **__than he was, that I would be greater than he could ever imagine…_

_ **STOP! **_

I bolted upright, sweat beading on my forehead and trickling down my neck. My hands clenched into tight fists at my sides, so tight that I felt my nails digging in little crescent indents on my skin. My knees shook, and I stared into space ahead of me, dead in the eye of my reflection but seeing nothing.

_Now I __**know**__ you're lying to me,_ I hissed at him. _How many more of my thoughts are you trying to twist? How much access do you have to my memories? _

_ Natalie, I don't…_

_**Stop saying my name! **_I mentally screamed. _Get out of my head! Whoever you are, I never want to see or hear from you again, do you understand me? _

_ I'm just trying to tell you… why I am this way…_

_ No. You aren't. You're trying to manipulate me; to bend me to your will, make me see things your way. _

_ Why would you… why would you accuse me like that? What proof do you have that I am anything more than a… kindred spirit?_

I grinned a little, viciously, and- I'll admit- painfully. _That. Right there. How did you know I was thinking 'kindred spirit'? How did you know that these 'daddy issues' of yours make you 'just like me'? Everything you just said, about proving that you were greater than he could ever imagine? That has been my one and only goal since I was a child. You're in my head and you're trying to use me and I want you __**out. **_

There was a pause. He didn't leave; I could still feel him in the back of my mind, contemplating. But there was a long and very definite pause, the silence ringing in my ears as I stood tall, standing my ground against the invisible voice in my head. (Remember when I said I had very little experience with disembodied voices? I lied.)

Finally, he let out a low, long, exasperated sigh. _I tried to be nice, _he said, a touch of cold arrogance to his words that was not there before. _I'm sorry we couldn't do this the easy way, Miss Frost. I had hoped. _

My eyes narrowed. The truth at last; forget Stark and Banner, I was getting some answers right here and now. _What do you want from me? _My teeth ground together as I threw the question at him.

_Oh, I don't think I should tell you yet,_ he answered breezily. _Soon, yes. But not quite yet. _

I scowled. _So is this the real you? _I asked.

_Quite._

_ Huh. I liked the other guy better._

He scoffed. _A figment. Something I created in order to get what I want. _

_ Yeah, yeah, typical sociopath. I get it. _

_ My dear Natalie! I thought you fought so hard against labels and categories; isn't that why you're trying to become a psychiatrist? Because you want to 'do it right'? _

I bit my lip; he was really cutting deep with that one. Pulling no punches. Throwing out secrets that I'd never told to anyone like they were nothing. _For you, I think I'll make an exception. You sound like a sociopath, act like a sociopath, and manipulate like a sociopath. If it looks like a duck…_

I got the impression he was rolling his eyes. _But you are still a fool, Miss Frost. _

_ And you are still arrogant. Funny how that works out, innit? _

He chuckled lightly. That beautiful voice with that beautiful laugh… and now I saw how twisted it was. Well, imaginary friends can't stay forever. My fists grew even tighter by my sides.

_I'm sorry we couldn't have done this in a less… unpleasant manner, _he told me. _But it seems that you are incapable of trusting anyone; even someone you believed to have made up. What does that say about you?_

_ "You can't cheat an honest man"? _I tried. He laughed again.

_Not quite. I'll speak with you soon, Natalie Frost. _

_ Oh, no. You're not leaving yet. I want a name, at least. Something **I **can repeat over and over to annoy the heck outta **you.**_

There was a pause. Then, _I am Loki. Future King of Midguard._

Again, that sensation that something was turning cold in my stomach. I cradled my hands against myself, as though that could keep out the freezing feeling in my gut. I took a few deep breaths, trying to stabilize myself; this entire world was going insane and there was diddly squat I could do about it. For crying out loud, the voices in my head were _real!_

I stood up. I wanted answers, and I wanted them _bad. _I'd gotten everything I wanted from 'Loki' (and also discovered that he was a pompous jerk). Now it was time to get some answers from Tony.

* * *

_"Stark! _I want answers and I am not leaving this room until I _get them!_"

"Ms. Natalie, your heart rate is reaching its critical level. I would advise you to calm down."

"You hear him? The robot wants me to calm down!" I threw my hands up into the air, then brought them slamming down on the table. "Let's get my little indestructible bubble into this mix, shall we? Why not? It seems everything else is shot to hell already; why _shouldn't _we just let the crazed college student with the nanobots in her blood just lose control?"

Bruce and Tony exchanged a look; I could see Bruce's eyes tightening, an unknown pain spiking through his eyes. Tony rolled his eyes. "Hey, I ain't gonna stop it. You do whatever you want, Pizza Girl."

Bruce sighed through his nose and looked me in the eye. "I'm sorry, Natalie. It was inconsiderate of us to lock you out like that. However…" He looked down. "What we're discussing… it's beyond Classified."

"Oh. 'Classified'. Why didn't you say so? I mean, it's not like I'm _experienced _with classified things, not like I have any _classified _technology running amok in my blood _as we speak._" I snorted and jabbed an accusing finger at Tony-it was hard for me to get mad at Bruce, he was such a calm person, but Tony I had no trouble with- and shouted, "Now, _I _have been seeing this man everyday. _I _have been hearing his voice in my head. Not you! _I _deserve some _answers, _dammit, and I'm gonna _get them!_"

"Hearing voices doesn't exactly help your case here, Nat," Tony said. "I mean, it's kind of an indication that you're going a bit…" He trailed off, studying me, then finished. "Crazy."

I gave him a death glare to end all death glares. "YES! I've been hearing _voices_! I've been _seeing things_! I thought I _was_ going crazy, and now you're acting like… like…" I spluttered off, unsure of how to describe what they were doing. My hands slammed onto the table a final time, and I turned away from them, making a disgusted noise in the back of my throat. There was a long silence in the room, the kind of echoing, booming silences that make you wish that someone would just talk to get rid of the noise.

I folded my arms, hugging them close to myself as I stared blankly at the wall. "What's happening to me, Tony?" I asked in a whisper after a moment. "Is it even real?"

I didn't know how I wanted him to answer that question; in fact, I didn't. I didn't ever want an answer; because then I could believe whatever I liked, whenever I liked. But while I might go into denial on occasion, I don't tend to run from the truth.

Tony took a long time to reply; so long that I finally turned around to face him, trying to keep the worry from showing on my face. He must've seen it anyway, though, because when I turned to him, he all but took a step back, turning to Bruce for help. Bruce looked fairly sympathetic as well, and looked back to Tony. He nodded once, and Tony gave a long sigh.

"It's real," Tony answered after a moment. The twisting in my stomach grew more intense, and I had to force myself to breathe normally. Bruce pulled up a chair and sat down; I took a moment, then did the same. Obviously, this was going to be a long explanation.

"That man, the one you're seeing?" Tony said, also pulling up a seat, "His name is-"

"Loki," I cut in. "I know." Their eyebrows lifted. In sync. It would've been hilarious if I wasn't so shaky. "He told me," I said weakly, shrugging.

"Right," Tony said warily. "Anyway. Do you remember that incident in Manhattan a while back? When all those 'supers' seemed to be fighting off an army?"

I nodded; though I failed to see how that was classified. The whole world knew about it, even if the people directly involved seemed to be keeping quiet about it.

"Well…" Tony looked one more time to Bruce, who sighed and took over without having to look back.

"We were among those supers; Tony and myself. The 'others' we were discussing… that was the rest of them. Everyone who was involved."

I took that in silently, my eyes scanning Banner up and down. He didn't match the profile of anyone there, but there _were _two unknowns; Captain America and the Hulk. Thinking back on Bruce's behavior the past few days, there really seemed to be only one he could be. And here's a hint; he didn't take a nap in the ice during WWII.

Bruce tried to go on, "And Loki is…" But I held up two fingers, stopping him. I was still trying to process this. I'd already known Tony was there; he was Iron Man, after all. Him being a superhero wasn't news and therefore not much of a shock. But Bruce… he just didn't seem the type. I'd been watching him oh-so-carefully for a while now, and I'm usually so good at reading people.

But then… 'anger issues'…

An idea started forming. The Hulk had always been portrayed as a bit of a monster; at least, until the Manhattan Incident had come into play. He was incredibly strong, almost invincible and he seemed… uncontrollable.

There. That was it. That was the word. Banner had _control. _He had so much control over everything he did that you had to wonder if he would _ever_ lose it. You could kick him in the face and he'd just blink at you. But where does control like that come from?

Control comes from a lack of control. It comes from being so helpless that you never want to be that way again. A lack of anger comes from having too much at a time before. And I realized at last that yes, Banner fit the profile _exactly. _I thought back to the times that Tony had flinched when Banner's voice rose even a little, or the way he'd get ready to call his armor to him. I thought back to the times when Banner had given me a sympathetic look when I discussed my own little indestructible side; and how I could not control it in the slightest.

I felt a little dizzy. I should've seen this. A good shrink would've seen it ages back. But then I looked into Banner's pale eyes and realized; no. No they wouldn't. No one would.

I swallowed and lowered my hand. "Continue," I said, as strongly as I could, but it still came out in a whisper. I'd been living with a big green monster for the past few weeks; it was going to take a while to get used to that. But right now was not the time for panic.

Tony watched me intently as Banner, still so calm, did as I'd asked. "Loki is the man responsible for the destruction in Manhattan. He brought an army of alien warriors known as the Chitauri through a portal created by the Tesseract."

I held up my hand again. "Portal, Chitauri, Tesseract. Aliens are real." I filled my cheeks with air and let it all out in a puff. "You're not exactly making this easy, are you?" I closed my eyes, tilting my head downwards and pinching the bridge of my nose. Ok. Aliens existed. I live in a world with superheroes, so that _shouldn't _exactly be a problem. But it somehow was, anyway.

An army of these aliens had attacked Manhattan. These guys had stopped them. Fun. Ok, I could handle this.

"What the hell is a Tesseract, by the way?" I asked, trying to smile as I said it, make it sound almost flippant. Tony explained.

"It's a sort of… technology. An energy source; so incredibly powerful that we'd hoped… hoped to use it for the 'good of mankind'."

"I take it that didn't exactly work out," I said dryly.

"Not as such, no."

I ran my hands down my face, taking a deep breath. "Ok. So let me see if I have this straight. A while back, my imaginary friend used a massive energy source to open a portal to another world and bring an alien army to attack Manhattan." I looked at them both. "You two, along with a bunch of other people with crazy powers, stopped the army and saved the world. Am I missing anything?"

Tony shook his head. "That about sums it up," he answered. "We're called the Avengers, by the way."

"Uh-huh." I answered, sitting back in my seat. I bit my lip and fell silent for a long time. The other two let me puzzle things out for a moment; but really, it wasn't so difficult to comprehend. The worst of it- that my imaginary friend was completely real and that aliens existed- was fairly easy to accept after a moment or so of shock.

"Ok," I said, swallowing. "I've got a few questions."

"Just a few?" Tony asked. I scowled at him; he was still on my list. I wouldn't be involved in any of this crazy stuff if it wasn't for him.

"Yeah. Starting with what the hell this guy has against Earth in the first place," I answered, folding my arms over my chest. I looked them both in the eye. "I want to know his motivation. I want to know what he was trying to do and why he was trying to do it. I wanna know _everything _about him."

Bruce smiled, a bit bemused. Tony looked at me as though questioning my sanity. "We just told you that we have superpowers, that aliens exist, and that an army almost invaded your planet," the Iron Man said incredulously. "And you want to know about the _bad guy?"_

I looked at him a bit dangerously. "This man is inside my head," I growled, putting as much of my hatred towards the situation into the words as possible. "He is inside my brain. He is reading my thoughts. He has tried to manipulate me. I want to know _everything _about him, so I can return the favor." Tony later told me that he literally saw bloodlust in my eyes as I added, "And then I want him _out._"

The two exchanged a wary glance. After a moment, Banner nodded slowly. "Of course you do," he said in that light, cool voice of his. "But I don't think we're the ones to tell you about it."

I lifted an eyebrow. "Explanation?"

"There's this man; one of the other Avengers. Only… he's not exactly… a 'man'. He's from another dimension; and he's Loki's brother." Bruce looked me in the eye. "If anyone can talk to you about Loki… it's him."

I thought that over; an account of someone from the point of view of one close to them was a fairly mixed bag; on the one hand, they know more about that person then anyone-particularly if they're family. On the other, the ones closest to the subject in question can also be very blind to their faults.

Still. It would be respectful to go to him first; and easier to sort out rumor from fact. I nodded my consent and tilted on two legs of my chair. "And you're trying to contact him, correct?"

Tony nodded. "If we're right… he should be contacting _us _fairly soon. If Loki has escaped, Thor-that's his name, Thor- should be the first to know."

"Ok. Ok. This is good." I relaxed a little. "You have a plan. A plan is a good thing."

Banner smiled at me. "I won't tell you not to worry, Natalie. That would be ridiculous. But I will tell you that we will do everything in our… rather considerable power to make sure that you remain safe."

I shivered; so they'd also come to the conclusion that Loki was targeting me. I'd given the most of the details concerning my conversations with the man before my big freak out; I'd been hoping that I'd be able to get answers by exchanging them. No such luck; I'd had to start screaming and shouting before they finally paid attention.

"Whatever you say, Hulk," I muttered. Both men looked mildly surprised that I'd guessed who he was, but I just half-smiled and shrugged self-deprecatingly. "Who else would you be? You fit the profile."

Banner lifted both eyebrows, but didn't respond. Tony blew it off. "Any more questions?"

"Just one. What happened to S.H.I.E.L.D.? Why did they leave? Why were they here in the first place?"

"That's three."

"Just answer it, Toaster Man."

The corner of his lip quirked upwards at the insult, but he answered. "They left. They were curious as to why I'd asked about Dr. Banner here, so they came to 'check up on us'. They searched around for a while, but, as you can tell, they didn't find anything." He held up my sketchbook, which had been sitting on the side of the table. "We kept this hidden from them as well. The last thing we need is them getting involved."

At this, Bruce nodded agreement. I swallowed and nodded as well. "Ok. Well, that settles everything." I looked at them. "Why are you still here? The other Avengers! Call them! Before the world dies!"

Tony rolled his eyes, but got up before I could stand and start pushing him to the phone like the last time. I thought Banner would smiled bemusedly at me again, but he didn't. In fact, he didn't even move. His gaze was so intense that, after a moment, I started to feel a little uncomfortable, fidgeting a bit.

"What?" I demanded after a minute, a little hostilely.

"Nothing," He answered, standing slowly and putting his chair away (something Tony hadn't bothered to do). "Just…" He'd turned away from me by now, and hesitated before looking back over his shoulder. "I'm sorry you had to get involved in this, Natalie."

"You and me both, Doc. But I think we can take comfort in the fact that it's all Tony's fault."

Again, he didn't smile. "I… I wish there was something we could do to change this." He looked back to me, full in the face. "I wish this didn't have to happen to you."

I shrugged, despite the way his words were making my stomach twist. "Hey, shit happens. I might not like it, but…" I trailed off; the sincerity in his eyes... it was almost painful.

"Yes…" he said slowly. "Yes, I suppose that is one way of looking at things." He turned away once more. "We'll keep you safe, Natalie. We'll do everything that we can."

"Hey, don't get all sappy on me, Hulk-man. I'm not some child that you have to baby around. I can take care of myself."

He didn't look back to me. "No. You're not a child. And I doubt you ever really were." He chuckled lightly, wryly, ruefully. "If he contacts you again, let us know."

"Will do," I answered, then cut out of the room. What he'd said chilled me to the bone; but I didn't understand how he could assume that, just by the few weeks we'd known each other. I pushed the thoughts away; I had way too much to think about without adding introspection to the list. Nothing good ever came out of introspection, anyway.

I started walking back to my room, my mind abuzz with everything I had learned. This was going to be a long day.

* * *

**A/N: A slightly shorter chapter; to be followed with an immensely long one next time! You heard me. And the rest of the Avengers are coming to play! Ehehehe. **

** Thanks again for reading/reviewing. I love reviews! I do little happy dances and sing 'It's a Small World', annoying whoever is in the room at the time! Friends, family, Loki… you name it, I've probably annoyed them by doing that. So leave a review and annoy someone today! **

** Also, you all have redjawn to thank for the update; which is up a few days earlier than I wanted it to be, because I didn't want to be 'Misery'-ed. O_o _(hides behind the TARDIS) _So let's give a round of applause to him/her/it/them/Sasquatch for their life-threatening review. Please do not threaten me again. I know a few Daleks that will be mighty ticked off at you.**

** Daleks: Review! Review! Review!**

** Thanks, boys!**

** Daleks: UPDATE! UPDATE! UPDATE!**

** But I've got work I've gotta do! **

** Daleks: PROCRASTINATE! PROCRASTINATE! PROCRASTINATE!**

** *evil grin* I love those boys. Are they boys? O_o Who knows. Anyway. You heard the Daleks! Please review! **


	5. Shopping With Captain America

**A/N: To everyone who reviewed: The Daleks are pleased, and will take this into account when they come to invade Earth. However, they are currently fleeing for their lives because**_** someone**_** mentioned the name of the one person they truly fear: River Song. (The Doctor? Doctor Who?) **

Let me guess: you're wondering what happened next. And I'll bet you already have an idea in your mind, something along the lines of: Loki returns, the Avengers all reunite, there's an epic battle, some flashy special effects, and it all ends with the final triumph over good and evil. Loki is defeated and thrown out of my head forever, and everyone returns to their normal lives. Or, if you're the optimistic kind, maybe you're thinking that Loki and I have a good long chat somewhere in this time, and he realizes what a monster he's become, repents totally, and starts fighting with the good guys. Or, better yet, maybe you're the gooey romantic kind, and you're thinking that I fall in love with Loki or Tony or Bruce or one of the other Avengers, and they all fall in love with other people, and I help fight side by side with my one true love, kick some butt, and save the day, with a nice little kiss at the end of a perfectly happy tale. And all this happens in the next few days, right?

Well, you're dead wrong. Trust me; a lot has to happen for there to be any kind of happy ending for anyone. And Loki isn't quite reasonable enough to have all of his past scars healed in just a few days; the man needs some serious help.

But I'm getting ahead of myself on that one. Here's what really happened:

Nothing.

Absolutely frickin' _nothing._

Over the next two days, three of the expected four Avengers started to trickle into Stark Tower. All three of them were completely and utterly gorgeous, which lead to me unleashing a string of curses in my head; apparently, beautiful people didn't just roam the planet in herds, but they also formed secret superhero clubs, in which they all got together and fought _other _beautiful people.

But, my jealousy aside, the pattern was the same for all three of them; they came into the Tower, having received an urgent call. They listened to Tony tell my story, and were shown my sketchbook. They listened closely to each and every word, nodded politely at me, then agreed to stay until the situation was resolved.

Only here's the thing; it wasn't.

Because the missing Avenger just so happened to be the one we needed to talk to most; Thor.

The first few days were wrought with tension as everyone tried to make a plan. The Avengers would hole themselves up in one of the rooms and, as usual, completely lock me out and ignore me. I'd expected as much from Clint and Natasha- the two of them barely looked at me since they came to the Tower, and usually there was a bit too much distaste in their eyes for my liking- but not so much from the others. Steve had seemed like a nice enough guy; he'd smiled at me and everything. Bruce, too, was usually so nice. And Tony, while a complete jerk, had been a little bit kinder to me. But now that the others were here… I was a nobody again. Just the stupid Pizza Girl who somehow got involved with the superheroes.

I hate my life.

I started to get pretty bitter about the whole thing; Loki was in _my _head, after all, he was talking to _me. _But the problem was, he _hadn't _been talking to me. For a whole week, the voices in my head had been completely silent. It was unnerving, to say the least, and also unnerving because it was unnerving. You understand, right?

So I, the stupid little human girl (or sub-human, which was what I usually felt whenever Natasha or Clint looked my way) was left entirely out of the loop. I spent a majority of my time in my room, reading, drawing, or watching television. My emotions bounced back and forth between extreme anxiety, acute curiosity, and incredible boredom.

And that was just the first week.

Nothing was happening.

Thor still hadn't shown up.

The next few weeks passed with slightly less tension; as waiting long enough will eventually sap the urgency out of anything. There were fewer meetings. I'd see the other Avengers hanging out in a living room, separate from the others. I'd see Clint in the gym, Steve listening to the radio, and Tony watching the TV. Bruce started calling me back to the lab for tests; though Tony had used the current crisis as an excuse to stop working on my problem. I was almost grateful; it was so much easier working with Bruce.

People started questioning whether or not my hallucination had been anything to really freak out over; surely Thor would know if Loki had done something? Surely they would all know by now if there was a problem? But Tony _wasn't_ so sure, and they all had their lingering doubts, so these questions never amounted to anything. They would just end up staying in the Tower.

It was around a month later that I started to go a bit stir-crazy. I'm a somewhat social person; I don't stay inside for longer than a day or two, and now I was inside _all the time, _stuck with people who either pointedly ignored me or were casually neutral towards me. The only person who talked to me was Bruce; and those conversations tended to be a little one-sided. He was a good listener, and handy for advice, but I was missing girl talk, where you could just bash the exes for about half an hour and then move on with your life without having to discuss _every little detail _about why you hate them, and what this means for you, and yadda yadda yadda. Tony and I traded insults every so often, but I'd hardly call that _conversation. _I didn't go anywhere _near _Natasha, since I didn't exactly think her the 'girly girl' type, or the type to blab for a good hour or so about which guy was the hottest on what TV show. Clint had said a grand total of two words to me this whole time. And Steve… well, Steve would smile at me on occasion, was relatively kind, and certainly wouldn't ignore me… but he never really seemed to want to 'talk', either. Honestly, was _every _superhero anti-social?

And I'd been stuck with them for a _month. _

I kicked my legs back and forth restlessly, waiting for Bruce to enter the room. It was somewhat early in the morning; he'd be back from breakfast soon, take a bit of blood, and be on his way. I was having a staring contest with the needles on the silver tray beside me, conversing with them in my head _(I don't like you and you don't like me. But if you don't hurt me too bad, I won't throw you out the window. Capiche?). _Once finished threatening inanimate objects (after all, I'd already done my daily scan for the voices in my head), I stared at the door, willing Bruce to come inside. Today was the day. It had been a whole friggin' month since I'd heard Loki's voice, or seen his face anywhere. And S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn't been giving us any trouble, either. I figured it was safe enough.

Bruce came inside after a few minutes, much to my relief. He smiled at me, like usual, then crossed the room and picked up the needle. I held out my arm obediently, much to his surprise. I've been known to bolt out of the room as fast as my legs can carry me; Tony actually had to get out the armor and chase me down, once. But today I was being good; I'd been extra good for about a week now, resorting to that age-old 'kid trick'.

Bruce inserted the needle in my arm while I looked at the wall. JARVIS had obediently displayed a holographic image of a majestic, towering mountain, and I stared at it, willing myself to focus on that and not the pain in the crook of my elbow. Not that it was particularly painful; it was just me and my phobia, making everything worse than it really was.

He finished, bandaged my arm, and took a step back. "We're done."

I immediately brought my arm back to my side, relaxing the fist that I'd made, trying to quell the queasiness. "Thanks, doc," I said, just a touch weakly. He nodded in response, and I started kicking my legs again. "Hey… there's something I wanted to ask you."

He paused in what he was doing for just the briefest of seconds; whenever I asked a question, it usually ended up being a bit of a therapy session, with me talking for a long time and Bruce being forced to listen to my ramblings. But then he continued his work. "Go ahead."

"I was wondering… if maybe I could go outside of the Tower for a while?" I wrung my hands tightly, twisting my fingers about. Bruce's eyes lifted from his work and up to me, mildly shocked. I smiled sheepishly. "It's just… I'm going a bit nuts in this place. I haven't gone shopping in forever, I haven't seen my friends and family, I've had to drop out of my classes, and that massive check that Tony wrote me as 'compensation' is completely going to waste. I mean, I can order stuff over the internet, but where's the fun in that?" I found myself babbling and shut my mouth. Ugh, I always resorted to 'kid mode' whenever I wanted something. Either that or I started demanding things like a crazy person, threatening and screaming, depending on the urgency of the situation.

Bruce lifted his eyebrows, and, unable to help myself, I added, "I'd also like to go to a restaurant for once; I'm tired of take out, and raiding Tony's fridge." I shuffled somewhat awkwardly on the table. "Please?" I tried.

Bruce studied me for a moment, then set down what he was doing. "I think that's an excellent idea, Natalie," he said calmly. My heart lifted, soaring around and doing loop-de-loops on the ceiling.

"Really?"

He nodded. "I've been worried about you, to be honest. It's not natural for a young woman like yourself to be trapped in a place like this." He stepped away from the desk, walking up next to me. "Besides. You've been dealing with quite a bit recently. It'd be good for you to have some normalcy in your life."

Now it was _my _turn to act surprised. "Gee, doc. I didn't know you cared so much."

He half-smiled at me. "There's only one problem," he said. "You'll have to find someone to go with you."

I scowled, immediately rejecting the idea. I wanted to get _away _from all this craziness, not to have it follow me around the city. "I don't need a babysitter; or a chaperone. I can take care of myself."

Bruce just smirked. "No, Miss Frost. I'm afraid you can't."

I opened my mouth to protest, then clamped it shut, my teeth _clack_ing together audibly. Crap. He was right, of course; I couldn't protect myself against Loki. I might be indestructible at times, but all he'd have to do to get me to cooperate would be to threaten someone on the streets. And, given the stories I'd heard about the guy, he'd have no problem doing so. And, if it wasn't him, then maybe something would go wrong with the nanobots once I was away from Stark Tower; I would need someone there in case of an emergency, even with the bracelet.

I glared, but asked, "All right. Who?"

Banner held his jaw in his fingers for a second, considering. "Anyone who's willing to," he answered after a moment. "It probably wouldn't be a good idea for me to do so, but…"

"Yeah, I understand." It wasn't like I wanted Bruce to take me, anyway. I liked the guy and all, and he was probably one of the most decent of the group, but half the reason I needed to get away was because I needed to talk to someone _different. _"So we ask the others?"

"We ask the others," he confirmed.

So we asked the others. And guess what the others said?

"Are you crazy?" Tony demanded.

"Loki could find her in a heartbeat," Natasha interjected, in a tone that was probably meant to end the matter. "With only one of us there to protect her… she'd die."

"Hello?" I snapped at them all. "Have you all forgotten that I am –ahem- _indestructible?_"

"Sporadically," Clint corrected me. "We can not afford to rely on that."

Well. At least the famous Hawkeye was now deeming to speak to me. I crossed my arms, fuming as I glowered at them all.

"Look," I said darkly. "I've done everything you wanted from me. I keep an eye out for Loki, listen for him in my head, stay out of your way, sit still for _hours _of mind-numbing tests that include _needles, _and wait as patiently as possible to get answers that _none of you _are willing to tell me! I've been poked and prodded and trapped and changed, and I'm _sick of it! _So please, _forgive me_ if I want _one day _to feel _human _for a change!" I threw my hands up in exasperation. Wow. That felt good.

Banner and Tony were staring at me. Clint and Natasha looked at me blankly, like I was a child having a tantrum. For a long moment, there was silence.

Finally, from the back of the room, looking at me with an unreadable expression, Steve spoke up. "I'll go."

Everyone turned their questioning, incredulous gazes to him as he stood, walking over to my side. He shrugged. "Why not? It'll be good for her."

Words could not say how immensely grateful I was to Captain America at that point in time. But I couldn't for the life of me figure out _why _he'd agreed. At that point, however, I couldn't care less; I was getting out of this place.

Natasha looked away. "If you're both willing to accept that risk," She said, coldly polite. I felt almost giddy. Tony grinned.

"Hey," he said casually. "Anything to get her out of my hair."

Bruce nodded and smiled at me. "Go get dressed, Natalie."

I looked at myself and realized for the first time that I was still in my pajamas. Yep. Totally had to get out more.

I nodded, said a quick, "Thanks!" to Steve, then dashed to the elevator. As the doors closed behind me, I promised, "I'll be ready in half an hour!"

Once the elevator reached my floor, I raced to my room, tearing into my closet. The clothes I'd been wearing had been ones that Tony had gotten for me; and a few that my mother had shipped here when I told her that I'd gotten an 'internship' at Stark Tower, as well as giving her a BS story about how I was thinking about changing majors to science, and if not then Tony was a good psychological study. She thought that Tony kept me here because it was simply easier for everyone; especially since he kept such odd hours. She didn't know the truth. I didn't want to tell her something so terrifying as the truth.

I asked JARVIS about the weather, but one look outside of the window told me everything I needed to know. It was _freezing _outside, with a light layer of snow on the ground. It was only then that I realized it must be around late November by now; my eyes popped. Where did time go?

At any rate, I threw on some warm black pants, some thick socks, a black undershirt, a green long-sleeved tee, and a green sweater, forgoing my big, puffy jacket that made me look like a marshmallow simply because I felt stupid like that today. I pulled a brush threw my hair, put on some simple makeup- cover up and lip gloss only- and pulled on my black boots. Abandoning jewelry and hiding the silver bracelet on my wrist beneath my sleeves, I flew back out of the room and to the elevator again, before running back to grab my purse. Man, it had been way too long; I barely knew how to get myself ready to leave anymore.

Steve was waiting patiently for me by the door; the other Avengers were still upstairs, doing whatever they had been doing before. He smiled at me as I all but barreled into him, holding me back before I could wrench the door open and throw myself out into the snowy air.

"Natalie," he said seriously; I turned to him, and he held up one finger to make his point. "One whiff of trouble from Loki. Just one. And we're coming back here _no matter what. _Understood?"

I nodded fiercely. "Yes, sir," I said breathlessly. Such formality was a rarity for me, but it seemed _right _around him. He was a soldier, after all. He stepped back and let me fly out into the snow; I didn't even make it three steps before I stumbled, slipped, almost regained my balance, then fell flat on my face in the white. Well. That wasn't embarrassing. But instead of making a big deal about it, I started to scissor my body, doing horizontal jumping jacks.

"Backwards snow angel!" I mumbled against the snow. I pulled myself to my feet and looked to Steve, whose eyebrow was disappearing into his blonde hair. I smiled sheepishly, the buzz in my veins dying down just a touch. "Sorry about that."

"Be careful," he warned, gesturing to my hand. "You have to keep your heart rate down."

I scowled. What a buzz kill. "Fine," I answered loftily, whirling on my heel, throwing up ice behind me.

"I mean it, Natalie," he said, in a warning tone. "Do you have your bracelet?"

I yanked down my shirt sleeve, holding my arm up, the gleam of silver showing out starkly against my semi-tan-but-not-so-much-any-more-because-I-hadn't-seen-the-sun-in-a-month skin. "Does it ever leave me?" I demanded, my voice dripping sarcasm. The thing had been welded together while I was wearing it. I hadn't been able to take it off once.

"All right," he said, and his tone was a little less stiff now. He came up next to me, keeping up with my frantic pace easily. "Just had to be sure."

I gave him a look, but I couldn't be mad at him; the man had just busted me out of the prison I'd been living in for too long. I still didn't know why. Maybe he was going stir-crazy, too. Maybe my insane rants finally got to him. Whatever, I was just happy to be outside again, to feel _alive _again.

"Where to first?" He asked me. I considered; part of me wanted to say 'anywhere', but I knew I'd have to plan things out. I'd have to say hi to a few friends, and I'd _definitely _have to visit my mother. She was freaking out pretty badly as it was.

But I also wanted to do some shopping. I had a bit of reading material at Tony's house, but that was wearing thin. And a girl can always get into a makeover. My eyes slid sideways to Steve, and a knowing, (and quite possibly evil) smirk crossed my face. Oh, the poor boy. He had no idea how much crazed girl-shopping I was planning today.

Still; first thing was always first. "The Café," I answered firmly. "I am _dying _for some good coffee."

He nodded. I wondered if he was going to be ok with me dragging him around all over the place today, or if he had another agenda; someplace he wanted to go as well. Maybe a secret he wanted to keep from the other Avengers? No. No, that didn't make sense. If he wanted to keep it secret from them, he would in no way let _me _find out. I would still be too much of an unknown to him.

"I'm surprised you like coffee," he said after a moment; trying to make conversation. All right, I was game.

I snorted. "You know how they say that a human body is largely made up of water?"

"Yes."

"Well I'm a college student. Our bodies are largely made up of caffeine." I grinned at him. "It's what keeps us running."

"I see."

We fell silent. Unlike Tony, who usually had another comment to add to my endless quips, Steve seemed a bit more like Bruce in the fact that he simply tolerated (and perhaps sometimes didn't understand) them. I kept my eye on him. As much as I didn't get along with a few of the Avengers, I found every single one of them to be an interesting case study; and Steve was certainly no exception.

A soldier from another time, frozen in the ice for a long time and suddenly waking up to find out, hey, it's over, we won! Everything you ever fought for is finished, it's done now, go find a new purpose for your life! Oh, and everyone you've ever known is probably either very old or dead by now, sorry about that, but you'll adapt! Psh. Yeah right.

I kept walking, keeping the silence. The cold stung at my face, and I yanked up my sweater's hood, stuffing my hands into my pockets. Gloves. Knew I was forgetting something. A scarf would've been nice, too.

Steve didn't seem to care about the cold. He was wearing simple thick black pants, black boots, and a thick blue jacket. His eyes were staring dead ahead, focused on his goals, and his blonde hair had been swept back on his head, out of his eyes. He walked stiffly, each step swift and sure. A soldier, through and through.

We took a bus to the Café, where I got the tallest possible order of coffee and Steve got some hot chocolate. I thought it an odd choice, but then I thought it over, and my heart twisted a little. Chocolate had been rationed back in the war. Such an ordinary, everyday item for us… it must have seemed so precious to him.

We walked side by side; I told Steve I wanted to go shopping, and he seemed content to let me guide us there. He still kept his eyes focused ahead; it must have been a bit much for him. Surely he'd be used to it by now…

Yeah. Like I'm used to the idea of creepy crawlies in my blood. Or that a guy straight out of mythology likes to poke around in my brain. I'm used to it, I've accepted it, but I definitely don't like it, and every so often I have to take a good, long look at it and freak out for a while.

We arrived at the mall, and for a while all sad thoughts about Steve vanished as I got distracted by the shininess of everything. For a while I all but dragged Steve from store to store, trying on about fifty different outfits in each and making him give me his personal opinion on _every single one. _He didn't complain about it, but after a while he did point out that his fashion sense might be a little out-of-date. Personally, I thought it was pretty spot on; at least in some cases. There was even a nice brown coat with beautiful copper buttons that I would've missed if he hadn't pointed it out to me.

"Ok," I said, after about two hours. Steve gave me a slightly tired look. "Bookstore, then lunch. After that I'll have to visit with some friends and family, and then we can go home."

"I thought you wanted to get out of there," he observed.

I shrugged. "Yeah, but I'm not going to push the limits of your generosity," I answered, lifting up the shopping bags. "I think I'm kind of pushing it already."

He smiled at me; it was, perhaps, one of his first genuine expressions of affection towards me since I'd met him. "I don't exactly want to spend a majority of my time there, either," he said dryly.

I smirked. So he was going stir-crazy with me. Mystery solved. "So that's why you said you'd take me."

"It's part of the reason," he admitted, holding the bookstore's door open for me. I halted.

"Part?" I asked. "What's the rest?"

He gestured for me to go inside, and I obeyed. He followed soon afterwards. He was quiet for a beat, but then he answered, "You were right. You're as much a part of this as we are now. It's affecting you just as badly; perhaps even worse. And we aren't helping anything by keeping you in the dark." He kept looking ahead. "Or keeping you locked away all the time. You need your sanity as much as you need to stay alive."

I smiled at the last line. Steve Rodgers, making a joke; almost. "Thanks," I said genuinely. "It means a lot to me."

"Think nothing of it," he answered, and I was sure that he meant it. He was a good guy, all things considered. I'd have to spend more time with him; if I didn't irritate him too badly.

We spent a solid hour in the bookstore, which surprised him a bit. He was even more surprised when I headed to the Spanish section.

"I didn't know you spoke Spanish," he said as I scanned the titles.

"Anything to have a bigger book selection," I joked. He lifted an eyebrow, and I shook it off. I'd done better in the comeback department, I'll admit. "My aunt spoke Spanish. I learned it from her."

He looked at me, a bit confused. "Really?" He asked. My eyes went up from the shelves and to him, standing on the other side of the shelf. "I wouldn't have thought… I mean… you're…"

He looked a little awkward, but I grinned. "Way too friggin' pale?"

He shrugged sheepishly. I laughed.

"My dad's fault," I answered, shrugging it off. "A lot of the people in my family _are_ Spanish; and you can totally tell with them. But my dad was Danish. My mom always said he was like, mega-pale, like he'd never seen the sun a day in his life. But, she loved him, and he loved her, and ta-da! I appeared."

Steve still looked a bit discomfited, but there was more humor in his eyes now. "I can see it now, actually," he noted. "Let me guess; you have your mother's eyes?"

"My grandmother's, actually, but on my mom's side, so good guess." I smiled. We fell silent for a while; I kept up the smile so that it wouldn't seem uncomfortable.

"What happened to him?"

I looked up. "Sorry?"

"Your father. You said he 'was' pale. What happened to him?"

My stomach twisted. Well, that was too good to last. But the conversation was bound to end here; this conversation _always _ended here. I tried to keep my tone light as I scanned the book titles again.

"He left," I answered, resorting to my age-old technique; stating things bluntly, putting none of those painful years behind the words. Just listing facts; like they'd happened to someone else. "Got into an argument with my mother one day, left the house… and never came back. I was seven. And… I saw the whole thing. But I don't remember much of him; not anymore."

Facts. They were just facts. The story was not new. It had happened to so many other people in the world. The details may be different, but it was always the same tired tale. I was not alone in this pain.

Everyone has a past.

Steve's face went through the expected array of emotions; shock at what had happened, embarrassment that he had asked, and pity for my tragedy. "I'm… sorry," he said quietly.

I shrugged. "Shit happens," I answered carelessly. "I mean, you were frozen in an iceberg for a few decades; that's _gotta_ suck."

Again, with the bemused smile and rising eyebrow. His eyes went to the book titles on his side of the shelf, but as he couldn't read them, he looked back to me after only a few seconds. I tried not to look at him, but there was something pressing at the back of my mind, something I just wanted to say, to get out there, something I hadn't been able to say…

"And you know what kills me?" I asked, giving in and draping my arm on the shelf, leaning against it. Steve's eyes went back up to my face. "I mean, we've all got reasons why we want to prove ourselves; and people we want to prove ourselves to. Mine is my father, obviously, but… that jerk, Loki? He played on that. On that core desire to prove my worth. Tried to manipulate me into sympathizing with him by using that against me. What kind of bastard hits someone at their lowest like that?"

Steve drummed his fingers quietly on the shelf. "He's done far worse than that."

"Has he?" Both of my eyebrows shot up, disappearing beneath my bangs. "Has he really? You've been in a war, soldier boy. You know the difference between taking a man's life with a gun and taking it with a knife; between dropping a bomb on a city and fighting people off in hand-to-hand combat." He looked at me, seeming a little unbalanced by my current train of thought.

"Yes," he answered carefully. "Yes, I do."

"But you see, that's my point," I said. "Any idiot can bring an army to a place and have them do your dirty work, while you sit behind in a bunker and hide out." My hand went to my face, my finger resting just below my lip as I concentrated. "And Loki dropped one hell of a bomb on New York, unleashing the Chitauri like that. But here's the thing I just _don't get. _Loki is a sociopath; complete and true. He works for his best interests; and it would be in his best interests to have hidden away until the war was over. And yet he insisted on fighting. He was a major part in his own plans; stealing the Tesseract himself, getting himself captured, killing people hands-on… and now he's planning again, and _once again _he's putting himself into the line of fire, straight at the heart of the war. _He's _the one poking around in my brain, not one of his 'minions', and I just _don't understand it."_ I ran my hand through my hair, gripping it tightly and leaving my hand on top of my head, eyes flashing as I tried to fit all of the pieces together.

Steve looked at me, a bit oddly. But I wasn't finished yet. "Why? _Why? _Loki is a sociopath, and most sociopaths wouldn't put themselves in direct danger like that. So what is _wrong _with him? Why is he-" I stopped abruptly. "Oh."

Steve looked at me. "Oh?"

"Oh," I confirmed, my eyes round as I looked to him. "He has a death wish. Of course. Why didn't I see that before?" I pulled a book from the shelf, then started towards another section of the bookstore; a section of which I was a regular. Psychology, self-help, medical. All arranged relatively close to each other. "How could I have been so blind? The man has a death wish the size of Pluto! The planet, not the Roman god." My eyes darted over all of the titles. "From what I've heard, he continually referred to humans as 'mortals', and himself as _im_mortal, so he's got some fascination with that. He threw himself into the fray. He continually belittled people whom he probably _knew- _on some level- were far more powerful than him. Now, maybe that was just his own arrogance, and _maybe _he really was that stupid, but what if… what if it was something more than that?" I pulled out one of the thicker tomes, flicking through the pages quickly.

"Does it matter?" Steve asked of me. "I mean, do you really _want _to understand this guy? He killed people; tried to take over the whole _world._ You don't need to know _why _he did it to know that he _did._"

"Au Contraire, soldier boy," I responded. "If I don't know _why _he did it, then he might as well _not _have done it." I glanced up from the book, looking into his eyes. "Cap, this man is _loco, _I'll agree. But there's a method to his madness, there _has _to be. There's always a pattern, always _something _to figure out." He blinked at me; the look on his face was such that I _had_ to laugh a little. "Ok, I know, I don't make much sense. But I'm a psychology student; to me, the human-or otherwise- brain is a _play toy. _I have to figure out why people think the way they do, have to _know _all about them. And with Loki… well, let's just say he made it personal." I flicked through the book again.

Steve shook his head slowly. "I just don't see how making sense of every little thing he does is going to help you fight him."

"You have your weapons, I have mine."

That seemed to shut him up. I closed the book, swearing foully in Danish. "Nothing." I glared at the book's cover. "Thanks for _nothing!_" I snapped at it, then shoved it back into its proper place. "I'll have to check my textbook later today; maybe I can get it from my mom when I go to… you're staring at me."

Steve was, indeed, staring at me. He shook his head slowly. "I don't understand you, Nat. And, to be quite honest, I'm not sure I want to."

I scowled. "Please. Don't call me Nat." He nodded, and I sighed, picking up my shopping bags from the ground, as well as the books I'd chosen to buy. "Come on. Let's go check these out and get lunch."

He smiled agreeably. "Sounds good to me."

The two of us went to the register in relative silence, waited in line for a moment or two, then paid for our items without saying a word to each other. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence; and if it was, I wouldn't have noticed anyway. I was totally jazzed about my new ideas about Loki. If I could just figure out what made him tick, maybe I could trigger the right buttons to really piss him off and get him out of my head for good. Or maybe get myself killed. Whichever.

The two of us made our way to the closest restaurant; a nice Italian place. You'd think that, after delivering pizzas so much, I'd be sick of Italian; you'd be totally wrong, though. In fact, it almost made me feel at home again. The smell of tomato sauce and mozzarella… gorgeous.

We ate quickly; for a majority of the lunch, I was entirely silent, my mind flipping through ideas and theories at the speed of caffeine (which is three times the speed of light, if you don't know). But towards the end of the lunch, I had all but exhausted every possibility my new ideas gave me; at least, without doing a bit more research first. So I pulled myself back down to Earth and explained to Steve about my only other goals for the day; seeing my best friend and my mother.

"If we can pull ourselves away from either of them in time, whatever's left of the day is totally yours," I told him. "Deal?"

He wiped Alfredo sauce from his face with a napkin. "Deal," he agreed. I covered the check, since I was almost rich now, and I knew that if I wanted to get really petty about it, I could make Tony reimburse me. I doubted I would, though; I was having a be-nice-to-rich-jerks-because-they-finally-let-me-out-of-the-Tower day.

Steve didn't seem exactly comfortable with the idea- he was an old fashioned kinda guy- but I shrugged it off. We put our coats back on- he helped me into mine- and went back outside to brave the cold once more.

"Friend first," I said, as the bells on the door jingled to announce our departure. "Then my mom. My friend is closer, anyway; we shouldn't even have to take the bus. We can walk from here."

Rogers nodded, and the two of us started onwards, side by side as usual, and still in our comfortable silence. I was beginning to like him a little more, as he was certainly a gentleman and willing to put up with a lot of my crap. Anyone who could do that was all right in my book.

My breath steamed out in front of my face, my boots making crunching noises in the white ice beneath our feet. It was a beautiful day, if you liked those cold, dismally grey skies; which, fortunately, I did. We passed by an alleyway, not bothering to go down it; immediately, I held my breath. The foul stench of alcohol and cigarettes attacked my senses as we walked by. Oh, fun. The reek of spirits and the stench of smoke; everything a person needs to burn out their sense of smell for the next hour or so. I glanced to see its source; a group of guys, slouching against the wall, bottles in some hands and lit cigarettes in others. I frowned and looked away, but one of them wolf-whistled.

"Hey, beautiful!" Another called, and the others laughed. More of these little comments were thrown out. "Why don't you ditch the boyfriend and give us a kiss?" One pursed his lips, and the others howled with laughter. Wow. Idiots are everywhere.

I didn't even look at them, didn't spare them a second glance. I just held my hand up high above my head, holding up the one-fingered salute.

"Aw, don't be like that, sweetheart!" One of them called, but I kept my hand where it was until they broke off into grumbling.

"Bitch." One of them muttered after a moment, and I saw Steve's hand tightening into a fist at his side. I placed my own hand on his, stopping him with a gentle shake of the head. He kept looking forwards.

"Definitely not worth it," I told him. "They're just a bunch of drunk idiots. It's the sober ones you've gotta smack around a bit."

Steve looked at me. "Why did you do that?"

"What? Stop you from seriously injuring a few people just because they're assholes?"

He frowned. "You see? You're doing it again." He looked away. "You don't think there's a nicer way of saying things that _doesn't _involve resorting immediately to swearing? It seems so…" He trailed off.

I looked to him, a bit incredulous. "You're kidding, right?" His eyes remained serious. "You're _not._ Ok. Wow. I thought… I mean, don't most soldiers swear like fiends? Aren't you used to that by now?"

He looked back to me, his hands stuffed into his pockets to keep out the cold. "Soldiers, yes. Not so much with civilians. And definitely not…" he trailed off again, his eyes going to the ground.

"Women," I guessed, and he shrugged.

"I guess it's just another thing of the past that I miss," he said sadly, studying his shoes. "People just seemed… kinder to each other, I suppose. Oh, there was the war, there were the horrors of what lie beyond the next battlefield… but back at home…"

"It was a different story," I finished for him. He shrugged again. I turned away from him, looking out to the cold air, sucking in icy breaths and letting them cloud in front of me. Now _that _was interesting. I thought of what I must look like to him; a young, impressionable woman, with an innocent face and a tragic back-story, but so much hostility towards the world. Someone as far from 'ladylike' as possible. Threatening, swearing, insulting; these things which were so basic to my vocabulary were almost foreign to him. At least in casual conversation; he must have been used to that from his enemies. And Stark, because Stark is just a jerk like that.

It must have been strange for him, coming to a time in which the entire world just traded insults for sport. I tucked the information away in the back of my mind for later consideration; I'd have to think this over.

"I'm sorry," he said after a moment. I looked to him. "I mean… I'm sorry if I… offended you, or…"

I rolled my eyes, smiling at him. "You didn't," I assured him, looking forwards. "Trust me; I've got a thicker skin than that. It takes a lot to really pis… I mean… make me angry." He glanced at me as I corrected myself. "Besides," I said quickly. "I prefer honesty, anyway."

He looked forwards again, down the road to our inevitable destination. "Most people do," he noted. "Until someone is honest with them."

I laughed aloud. "Good one," I commented. He didn't respond. We fell into silence again; I turned us down a certain street while a car passed by us, spewing exhaust into the air, totally messing with my cold-clean-day vibe. I coughed a bit, clearing out my lungs. "We're almost there," I said once I'd finished, pointing to a house at the end of the street. Steve nodded.

We walked up to the house, up to the porch, and I knocked twice. "I haven't seen her in about a month," I told him. "So… be ready. We get a little crazy without each other."

His eyes got a little more round, and he took a half-step back. I grinned. The door opened, and a young woman with dark black hair, green eyes, and an overly colorful dress stepped out. "Oh," she said, seeing me. "Hello, Natalie."

I smiled genuinely at her. "Hey, Mrs. Blackthorn. Is April home?"

Standing by my side, Steve seemed rather surprised by my suddenly polite manner. Mrs. Blackthorn nodded.

"She's in her room." She glanced to Steve. "Who's your friend?"

"Oh; he's a work colleague of mine," I answered breezily; Steve also seemed surprised by the ease of my lie. I introduced the two quickly, and they shook hands. Mrs. Blackthorn turned and left with the promise that she would go retrieve April, and I looked to Steve.

"Work colleague?" He asked.

"Meh," I answered. "What else was I going to call you?"

"What would be most readily believed?"

"What, you think I'm not good at making a believable lie?"

"No. I think you are; that's what concerns me."

I chuckled, but didn't get to respond before something small, black, and fuzzy barreled into me, squealing in my ear. _"NATALIE!" _April shrieked, almost knocking me to the ground in her massive bear hug. I laughed and twisted myself around so that I could hug her back, lifting her off the ground and setting her back down with a wild grin. She was wearing all black today, with a rainbow-swirled gem dangling from her neck to provide some color, and bright yellow boots. She had her usual fuzzy sweater on, the one that I always tried to steal and typically got beaten up for if I tried.

"You look like crap!" She said in a shrill, excited voice, as happy as though she was telling me I looked like a princess. She slugged me in the arm. "What the hell happened to you, Frost? You had me worried sick!"

"You look worse," I shot back. "And I got an internship at Stark Tower. I've been all but living there for the past month; but Tony is _definitely _the mad-scientist type. He keeps crazy hours, does crazy things… it's been hard to get away."

"Wait. You're actually _working _with him?" She asked, her eyebrows lifting. "Oh, _tell me _you got it!"

I rolled my eyes and pulled something out of my pocket. "I got it. He totally didn't believe it was 'for a friend' though." I handed it to her; she took it from my hands and looked at it with wide, child-like eyes, then started jumping up and down.

"Autographed picture," I explained to Steve. "April's a fan. She's been asking me to get one for her since I started delivering there."

April shrieked like a crazed fangirl, then ran back into her house. I waited patiently, until she came back, her hair in her eyes and the picture gone.

"You just put that in the frame, didn't you?" I asked, referring to a picture frame she'd been saving for just such an impossible occasion. She nodded fiercely.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" She said, so quickly that the words meshed together. I grinned.

"Yeah, well, you owe me big," I answered. "It was completely pride-damaging, asking him for that. We don't exactly get along."

"_You _don't get along with _anyone," _She said, waving it off.

"I get along with you," I pointed out.

"I don't count. But enough about that, now that the important things are out of the way, you have to tell me: Who is _that?_"

She looked to Steve when she finally asked her question; I smiled. So she wasn't completely ignoring him. "April, this is Steve. Steve, April." They shook hands. "He's a work colleague of mine. It's rare that we can get away from Tony's long science rants, so we decided to have a day out together."

Her eyebrows shot up, disappearing beneath her black bangs. She made finger quotes as she asked, "A 'day out'?"

"_Yes,_" I said firmly. "And nothing more. So get your mind away from where I know it is."

She chuckled. "Oh, good." She lowered her voice so that only I could hear. "So he's not taken."

I gripped her arm before she could bounce up next to Steve. Keeping my voice low, I said, "He's not really your type."

She looked to me with a disbelieving smirk. "Hmm… blonde, buff, gorgeous… how is he _not _my type?"

My eyes flickered from her to Steve and back again. "He's a little… _old fashioned._ Just trust me on this one."

Steve seemed to realize what- and more importantly, _who-_ we were talking about, because he turned absolutely beet red. "Behave, will you?" I asked April, releasing her arm. She rolled her eyes.

"You're no fun."

"_Behave," _I repeated as she went up to Steve, pulling her hair up in a ponytail, which she typically did whenever she went out of her house. I closed the door for her; I suspected we were going to go on our usual walk around the block.

I was right; after making a close inspection of Steve (and warning him that she carried a baseball bat reserved for anyone and everyone who 'tried anything' around her best friend, embarrassing us both) April dragged us along our typical route. The two of us walked side by side, babbling away about everything that had happened in my time gone, while Steve hung back a bit, his eyes darting about in search of trouble. Every so often, April would try and drag him into the conversation, but I knew better; he would continually smile and give polite answers, but never showed any interest in actually _joining _the conversation. It was exactly how he usually was around _me, _so I knew not to push it. We'd get no where with that; and soon enough, April seemed to realize that, too.

She babbled to me for the entire walk, bashing her most recent three exes; all guys I'd never even heard of before. April has a tendency to go through a guy a week, getting all mushy-gushy about them, then having her heart broken when they break up. I listened carefully and joined in on the hating of these three random men whom I'd never met; as was frequently the way with 'girl talk'. We'd gotten halfway around the block when she finally finished discussing them, then started shooting questions my way about Tony. She was like a machine gun; no sooner had I dodged one question than another was fired. And I couldn't just Matrix my way out of _these _bullets. But the truth was, I didn't know much about Tony. Just what he acted like, how he always had a comeback to my comebacks, our frequent and somewhat juvenile fights…

But I couldn't tell her everything. Like when she begged me to tell her every _exact detail _about the Iron Man armors. I told her that it was mostly classified, and that I didn't get to see them often, but I knew that wasn't true. I'd destroyed a few of them the first time my bubble had appeared. They were older models, but still. If it weren't for the big _classified _stamp on everything I knew, I could've told her everything. About how scared I was, about the lunatic in my head, about the satisfying crunching noise that Tony's old face plates and helmets made when I walked all over them. But I didn't. I wasn't stupid enough to.

April seemed to notice I was keeping something from her, but she didn't ask me about it. She was good like that; if I wanted to tell her something, I would. If not, I didn't have to. And I always returned the favor. I knew there were things that she couldn't talk about with anyone. That was the nature of humanity; everyone, absolutely _everyone, _has secrets. Big or small.

By the time we finally reached April's house again, she was willing to go around the block one more time, but I explained that I still had to see my mother, and she understood.

"Just… call me sometime, ok? We can hang out some other time," April said firmly. I nodded, smiling warmly in response.

"Will do," I answered, hugging her goodbye, giving her a wave as Steve and I walked down the pathway, away from the house again. I was smiling to myself as we went, my thoughts still on the conversations me and my best friend just had. Steve broke me out of my concentration after a moment.

"Don't take this the wrong way," he suggested, "But… that whole conversation seemed to be a little… one sided." I looked to him, questioning, and he went on. "It's just… She talked to you about her recent problems, then about her recent crush on Stark. But you didn't really… tell her anything about yourself."

I shrugged. "April knows everything about me. What's left to tell?" He frowned, and I snorted. "I mean, I can't exactly tell her what's on my mind; particularly because it's no longer a 'what' per say, but a _'who'._" I looked forwards, my hands curling into fists in my pockets. "Besides. April and I have an… understanding."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. We've been best friends ever since we were kids; and in all that time, I've kind of… played 'shrink'. The more I learn about psychology, the more I have to work with, the more I can help her with her problems. Basically, I help her talk out her problems, and she helps me train for my hopeful eventual career. It's a win/win."

Steve chuckled once. "I see."

"We've talked about it before. We both agree." I shrugged again. "It's not really that big of a…"

I stopped, halting in my tracks in the snow. My words choked off in my throat, dying away in the still air. I started to shake, to tremble, but it had absolutely nothing to do with the cold. My eyes grew wide, the frigid air sapping the moisture from them.

He stood in front of me, in his usual long jacket with its familiar green theme. His black hair was slicked back, curled upwards on his neck, and his icy blue eyes locked on me, so beautiful and dangerous. He wore a simple smirk, and when he spoke, his voice was… indescribable.

"Hello, Natalie," he said, each word filled with a regal power.

_Loki._

I shook, my palms sweating as I stared at him. No. After a whole month without showing his face, he couldn't be here, in the streets of New York. Not _now. _Not when I finally felt free of everything, not before I saw my mom again… not _now._

"Natalie?" Steve asked, halting beside me. "What's wrong?"

I felt all of the blood drain from my face as I pointed a trembling finger towards my imaginary enemy. My hands were shaking so badly that I doubted he could tell where I was pointing. He looked forwards. "What? What is it?"

I swallowed. Loki smiled benignly at me. "Well, look at you," he said gently, coolly. "Natalie Frost. With Death looming over her head at every second, and what does she do?" He looked me up and down. "She visits her friends and family, of course… but _first _the shopping."

I thought of the shopping bags we'd dropped off at Stark Tower on our way to lunch. Thought of everything that had happened. Thought about how he could know. The first thing that popped into my head was that Loki had been following us; but that was ridiculous. Steve would've seen him. No, he was just reading my mind; because _that _wasn't ridiculous at _all._

I swallowed. Ok. Loki had the advantage of surprise; but that wasn't an advantage I was willing to give him any longer. I forced back my anxieties, battling back my fears. He had no right to make me afraid, and he couldn't do so unless I let him. So I swallowed it back, choked it down; there would be plenty of time for panic later.

"What do you want from me, Loki?" I asked him; I felt Steve stiffen at my side. He reached for his pocket, probably for the phone, ready to call for help, but I stopped him by placing my hand on his. This was _my_ fight, and the Avengers weren't taking it from me. Not that they could; if Steve couldn't see him, then something was wrong here.

Loki smiled at me; ugh, such a hideous smile, twisting such a beautiful face. It was just so… malevolent. Radiating power. "I want you to die, Miss Frost. And die you will; but not until you help me."

"And _why _would I _ever _help _you?_"

His smile grew just a touch. He didn't respond; simply waved his hand at the frosty air in front of him; a shadowy, hazy mirage appeared before him, slowly solidifying into a figure. My throat closed, and my fingers curled into a tight fist; shaking no longer in fear, but in fury. I was dizzy with suppressed panic and unbridled rage. Ok. Now he was crossing a line.

April's figure stared blankly ahead, not seeming to notice anything around her. Loki slowly circled her. It was like a nightmare; my best friend in the hands of my enemy. But that was _exactly _what it was: a waking nightmare. This wasn't real. And I just had to keep convincing myself of that.

"What would you do to keep her safe, Natalie?" Loki asked, brushing the illusion April's hair back from her face. I almost launched myself at him, but I knew it would do me little good. "Your friend, your mother…" He smiled, waving a careless hand, and another figure appeared. "Your father, perhaps? Which one will it be? How many of them will have to die before you decide it's best to follow my orders?"

My eyes narrowed. "That's not your plan."

"I'm sorry?" he asked. He was oh-so-polite and it was making me sick.

"That's not your plan," I repeated, firmer than before. "No, that's too simple. Threaten me and my family until I follow your orders? That's blasé. It's not enough. And, if that were the case, you would've already told me what you wanted me to do." I shook my head. "No. There's something else you want. Something I'm missing." My eyes went to his. "What is it?"

He studied me for a long moment, his face blank and unreadable. He was trying to figure me out just as fiercely as I was. I stood tall, eyes alight, standing my ground.

"Suffer," he said at last; the word was such a cool monotone that I almost missed it. And then that quick grin flashed across his face again. "I want you to suffer, Natalie Frost. I want you to have my name permanently engraved into your mind. I want you to live in a constant state of fear and pain. I want terror in your heart at all times."

My eyebrows shot up. "Sheesh. What did I ever do to you?"

His smile twisted a bit, became a little more knowing and a little more evil. "It's not what you've done, Miss Frost. It's what you _will _do; what you _must _do." He looked at me, his eyes shining. He pulled out a blade from his belt, a small metal weapon that he pressed up to my phantom best friend's throat. She didn't even blink. "Whether you wish to or not, you will follow my orders eventually, Natalie." He flashed me that toothy grin again, and swiped the blade across April's throat; I flinched. Even though I knew it was just an illusion… it went totally against the grain, me standing by and doing nothing.

"Because you will always be afraid," he finished, swiping the blade across the phantom image of my father as well; the two people I loved and hated pitched forwards into the snow, collapsing on the ground. Crimson spilled from their limp corpses, staining the snow with its deep colors. I tried not to look at them, tried to keep my focus on Loki. "And one day, it will be too much for you. And you will beg to follow my final command, _beg _for me to end your torme-"

I held up two fingers, cutting him off utterly. "Stop talking now," I said in a rush, my eyes darting to the blood-stained snow. But I wasn't even thinking about the corpses; in fact, I felt almost numb to the whole idea. Loki was trying to freak me out and I didn't have to let him. But some of the things he'd said had gotten me thinking.

First, there was the idea that I _would _and _must _do something; and I was guessing that 'something' was following whatever command he had in store (though I briefly considered the idea that he could predict the future and hated me for something that I was going to do at some point; but it didn't seem to fit).

Second, this idea of keeping me afraid. He seemed pretty intent on making my life miserable for no apparent reason. Keeping me guessing, on my toes. Him appearing on the first day I was allowed outside was no coincidence, I was certain. No, he was playing some serious mind games; but why? It didn't make sense to me. He had the Avengers to mess with; why pick on a random pizza girl?

And then it clicked. I _wasn't _a random pizza girl. I was a random pizza girl with nanobots in my blood. He wanted me scared. And what happened when I got scared…?

It all linked back. My eyes went back up to him, alight with the discovery. It seemed to unnerve him, and he actually took a step back as a wide smile started to spread across my face, and I actually laughed aloud. Of course. The first time I'd heard his voice in my head, when I'd been locked in that closet and about to lose control completely, he'd said, _it's too soon for this. It can not be now. _He hadn't wanted my little indestructible side to come out to play; _yet. _

_ That _was what he wanted. I didn't know why and I didn't know how it could help him, but it was all so painfully obvious to me now. He wanted that bubble coming out again, he wanted me afraid so that I would become indestructible. How that would help him… well, it didn't matter right now. All that mattered was that I was getting closer; closer to unraveling his little plan.

"You want my bubble," I said confidently. By my side, Steve looked at me curiously, questioningly. "You want me indestructible. _That's _why you want me scared, _that's _why you want me to suffer."

Loki's eyes had widened. I gave him my own wild-eyed, malicious grin. "You see? That's what I love about sociopaths; they don't know when to shut up." I stepped up closer to him, my face about an inch from his. I had no idea what Steve was seeing at the time, and it probably looked intensely crazy. But I was having a bit of fun with my victory nonetheless. "What, did you think I was stupid? Did you think I wouldn't _guess?_" I laughed again, so loud it echoed. "HA! You're in my _brain _and you _still _can't figure out how smart I am? That's kind of pathetic."

And yet, another part of me was wondering if that was the point, and he _wanted _me to figure it out; but that was probably the paranoia talking. I pushed the thought aside and wrapped up my own gloating quick, just in case I was shoving my foot in my mouth.

"Well, you've been a wonderful help to the Avengers cause. We all thank you very kindly." I wiggled four of my fingers in a wave. "Toodles!"

I whirled on my heel, beckoning Steve to follow. He stayed silent; he'd probably ask me about it later, but he was too used to following orders to stop now. I heard Loki spluttering behind me.

"How _dare _you turn your back on me?" He demanded. "You pathetic, weak _mortal!"_

"Yep, death wish!" I shouted back, not expecting him to understand me but ready to laugh about it when he figured it out later. "Totally called it!"

"Act brave all you wish, Natalie Frost!" He called. "But I am in your very thoughts! I know your every fear and weakness! I know your darkest secrets, and I will turn _every one of them against you!_"

I faked a yawn as Steve and I turned a corner. Loki could probably follow us, but I somehow doubted he would. If he hadn't meant to give me that little bit of info, then he'd be too flustered to really follow me and deal with everything. If he _had _meant to give it to me, to clue me into his plan, then he'd want to give me some time to think it over. Either way, he'd be leaving me alone for the next few hours.

"Come on," I said to Steve, picking up the pace. "We're wasting time."

**A/N: Ok! So I finally realized that there **_**is **_**a section in the 'movies' part of Fanfiction for the Avengers. I thought that it was only in the comics, since that seemed to be the case for Spider-Man. Due to this new information, this story will be moved to **_**that **_**section of Fanfiction. I don't know if that will mess up Story Alerts/Favorites/anything else, so I wanted to give everyone a warning; I'll be moving it there in about a week. Be ready to re-favorite/alert if FF does something stupid. I don't think it will, but can't be too careful, right? **

** Anyway. Review! Please! Or don't! And I'll hate you forever! Just kidding! But Review! **


	6. Spies, Dreams and Tuna

**A/N: I know, I know, I said I'd move this a lot sooner than I did. I honestly just didn't have time. So I decided to post the next chapter with it when I moved it. So… here you go!**

** Also, I apologize in advance if Clint seems a bit out of character. Unlike the others, he has only a few lines in another movie (Thor), and spends most of his time in 'The Avengers' as a brainwashed zombie. So his character is a little harder to pin down. But I try!**

I sat, the back of my chair propped up against the wall, my hands clasped tightly over a steaming mug of coffee. My fingertips were burning, but at the moment I could barely feel it. My focus was on my five super-powered roommates, arranged in a semi-circle around me. They had listened to my story in absolute silence, as I'd asked for them to; even the Captain, who knew a majority of what had happened already.

I took a long, fragile sip of coffee; the bitterness stung the back of my throat, the foul taste made sweeter by the boatload of sugar I'd scooped into it (much to JARVIS' dismay; the robot _did_ like to keep the Tower's tenants healthy). I set the mug aside, looking at them all.

"That's it," I told them. "That's everything he said."

A few of them settled back into their seats- Tony, Bruce and Steve- but the others remained as tense as ever. Natasha's eyes got that cold, focused gleam that I'd come to expect from her, and Clint avoided looking at me entirely. He'd gotten the information he wanted from me. I was now irrelevant.

"Are you sure that's what he wants from you?" Tony asked, frowning. "I don't see how that would be of any importance to him."

"He did it before," Natasha pointed out, looking towards the Hulk, a lot of past meaning in her eyes that I didn't understand. "Bringing out the uncontrollable."

"But Natalie _can _control herself," Bruce pointed out. "She may not have control over the… _'bubble'_, as she calls it, but she still has her free will. Her own willpower. Loki would gain nothing from it."

"It makes no sense," Tony agreed. "Why would he want _another _person that could fight him? _Another _person with abilities?"

I flushed at the word 'abilities'; wow, did I feel special. What, like I would help fight him off just because I was indestructible? Well, actually… yeah, that _did _sound like something I'd do. I let it slide.

"Is it possible you misunderstood his intentions?" Clint asked me. Oh, yay. Hawkeye the Magnificent has now deigned to speak to me _twice _in one day! This calls for a celebration, and a feast that would put the king's to shame! Huzzah!

"That's _always _possible," I answered. "This is _Loki; _which apparently is Norse for 'really bad dude'. He's a sociopath and a manipulator; no _shit _I could have misunderstood his intentions. I could just be thinking what he wants me to think." I leaned in closer to them all, giving them my most intense stare. "But what if I'm right? It'll be good to have _some _idea of what he's planning."

"It's not much of an idea," Natasha said, doubtfully. I folded my arms over my chest.

"It's a lot better than we had this morning," I grumbled.

Bruce frowned. "I agree with the others." He shot me an apologetic look. "It makes no sense for Loki to wish you indestructible; not while you still control your own free will."

"How do we know she does?" Natasha suddenly looked at me, suspicious. "Loki is in her mind, isn't he? How do we know that he can't simply take control of her?"

Now _that _was a scary thought; but I'd be lying if I said I'd never thought of it before. "Maybe," I consented. "But he doesn't have control yet. Maybe he needs the bubble for it to work?"

"Or a moment of weakness," Bruce consented, nodding to me. "A moment of terror so absolute that it causes you to become indestructible… it's highly possible that a moment like that could leave you open to a telepathic attack."

"Hold on," Stark cut in. "For all we know about telepathy, the _opposite _could be true." He looked to me. "And you're _mighty _calm for someone who's talking about their own brain being hijacked."

I blinked at him. "It's been a possibility since the beginning, Stark; something you'd have realized if you read a few more science fiction novels."

Steve, who had been strangely quiet throughout the whole conversation, smiled lightly at my comment, then spoke up. "I agree with Frost. I don't know exactly what she saw when she was out there… but this seems like as good a guess as any. We're not going to understand the whole plan right now; but this is a start. And maybe that's all we need."

The others fell quiet to hear him speak; far quieter than when anyone else was talking. I noted this with some interest. So the Cap was the unspoken leader of this little group; good to know. Given the grimaces on some faces, they obviously didn't always agree with him; but they would certainly listen. I filed the information away for later.

"Maybe," Clint agreed slowly. "But I still think we should keep our mind open to other possibilities."

I fought from rolling my eyes. I tried to bite my tongue, but my acid-laced remark came spilling out without my permission. "Oh, no, we should _totally _be closed-minded to _any other options, _because thinking that the Norse god of _Mischief _might have some other hidden tricks up his sleeves would just be pushing it!" I gave him a glare. Yeah, I didn't like him much. Like Tony, he had a way of pushing all the wrong buttons. But Tony, at least, was relatively harmless; not so much with this guy.

Clint gave me a look; it was completely unfathomable, blank and dead. I held my ground under his cold gaze as best I could, but there was a darkness in his eyes… something I couldn't quite grasp. Still, I went on. "Do you really think I expect everyone to drop everything and just listen to _my _theories? No. I'm just giving what information I have and what I've managed to glean from it. Whatever you do with it is _your _problem."

"_Our_ problem?" Clint whispered, with the barest emphasis on the word 'our'. His entire body seemed to tense very slightly, as though he was ready to launch across the room and choke me out; but the look in his eyes was what really told me that it was about to hit the fan. "In case you haven't noticed, Frost, this is _your _problem as well. In fact, this is quite possibly _only _your problem. _You're _the one with the nanobots. _You're _the one with the crazy man in your head. _Not us. _We're _helping _you. And you're making it _incredibly _difficult, believe me."

I lifted both of my eyebrows, and they disappeared under my bangs. "I'm not holding back any information, Hawk. I'm not restraining you. I'm letting Banner and Stark run their little geek tests on me. Tell me, how am I not helping you? How am I keeping you from stopping Loki? Am I missing something?"

His eyes narrowed; no one else was even breathing. Not that I really noticed. I had eyes for Clint and Clint only. This was a showdown that had been coming for a while; I'd been wondering what Bird Brain had against me, why he didn't like me. Now I might be finding out.

"Well, let's start off by the way you're not taking _any _of this _seriously_," he answered, perched on the edge of his chair, ready to stand-and quite possibly throw the chair and shatter it against the back wall. "You _knew _the risks, _knew _the dangers. And yet you _insisted _on leaving Stark Tower anyway, and why? For a few books and some fancy outfits?" He was getting angrier. That was ok. So was I.

"There are _so_ many things wrong with what you just said, I think my _head_ is going to _explode_," I snapped, my hands holding my head in place for a second. My eyes whipped to his, shining darkly. "First off," I said, ticking each matter off on my fingers, "I _asked _you about that this morning. You didn't seem to have much of a problem with it _then. Second, _if it weren't for me _leaving _Stark Tower, we wouldn't know _any _of this."

"You don't _know _that!" he cut in.

"Yes! I do! Because Loki is _trying _to make me suffer; so of _course _he waited until I got out of the Tower! That's just common sense! And _three: _those outfits are _fabulous, _so don't knock 'em!"

He scoffed, making a disgusted noise at the back of his throat. "You see? Everything is a _joke _to you. You're not taking this seriously; you have _classified _technology in your blood, and you're treating it like a five-year-old's science project! You don't care about stopping Loki! You don't care about _any _of this! You just laugh it off like it means _nothing!_"

I actually took a step back in shock. I stared at him, wide-eyed, and contemplated slapping him across the face. I think Steve saw that coming, though, because I saw him shake his head a little; the gesture kept me from hurting things, kept me rooted in my words as opposed to violence. My hands clenched at my sides, I took a deep, stabilizing breath, slowing my heart; which had started to pick up a bit.

"Listen, Big Bird," I said, taking my time with each and every word. They were all carefully measured, but packed with hostility and venom. "In case you haven't _noticed, _me freaking out and losing my cool right now would _not _be a _good thing. _That would just unleash the Bubble of Death; and, seeing as Loki is the only one who wants that, I think we can safely say that I shouldn't _do that. _

"So yeah. I make jokes. Because right now I'm fighting off a panic attack that's been coming for a _month. _My world has been turned upside-down so many times in the past few weeks it's a wonder I haven't gone _insane._ I no longer live in a world of boyfriends and girlfriends, grades and exams, pizza and family! No, my world now consists of aliens and superheroes, nanobots and voices, mythology and friggin' _needles! _And every _second _of every _day _is spent battling back _fear _and _anger _and _panic, _because if I lose it for _just long enough, _there's a good chance that the whole world will die a horrible fiery death! So _excuse me _if the only way I can _cope _with that is to poke fun at everything!"

There was a ringing silence. Clint's eyebrows had gone up, and his mouth had shut tightly. Natasha had gotten a little closer to him; Steve was watching me carefully. And then JARVIS' voice joined the party.

"Miss Natalie, your heart rate is reaching its critical level. I would advise-"

"Oh, shut up," I growled, and Tony snorted. A small smile made the corner of Steve's lip twitch upwards. And then, suddenly, almost every Avenger in the room was laughing. I ran my hands over my face, trying to hold back my own laughter, but seeing the others laughing just made it worse. With so much tension in the room, and so much tension over the past month or so, it was good to let it all out in a real laugh; Clint watched me for a moment, but eventually even he smiled a little.

As the sound of our laughter died down, I looked at everyone. "Are we done here?" I kept a straight face long enough to ask. Tony waved a dismissive hand, and Steve said, "I think that's everything."

I nodded and started towards the door; I heard someone following me, but soon some of the others came out the door as well, so I thought nothing of it; at least, until I stopped at my room and saw him standing behind me: Clint.

I turned. His face was as solemn as ever. I heaved a sigh and slouched against my doorway. "Let's get this over with, Barton."

He took a deep breath and let it out; not quite a sigh. There wasn't enough emotion to call it that. "I apologize. I hadn't realized…" He swallowed, then seemed to shake it off. "I do not approve of the way Stark handled things with you. This is no place

for a civilian; particularly one… your age."

My arms folded. "Uh-huh. And what, exactly, should Stark have done differently?" I looked him in the eye pointedly. "What would you have done if you were him, and you suddenly realized that you'd let classified technology get into the bloodstream of a random college student?"

Barton studied me for a second; his general body posture gave nothing away, but the corner of his lip tugged downwards, and his eyes showed a touch of emotion. He was hiding his embarrassment well-his spy training was really paying off- but I could still see it. I frowned. Why would he be embarrassed…?

Oh.

_Shit._

My eyes popped, and my jaw went slack. Barton looked away from me for a split second, and I think my heart skipped a beat. "_For the love of pizza and cookies, man, have you no soul?_" I shouted. Clint looked back to me, confused, but I was already backing away, staring. "You would have _shot _me, wouldn't you? You friggin' _spy! That's _what you wanted Stark to do, isn't it? You think he should've _killed_ me! Collateral damage!"

Clint, understanding now, rolled his eyes. "You've been watching too many movies, Frost."

I wasn't buying it. "Just keep away from me, Secret Agent Man." I said with narrowed eyes, taking another step back, so that I was partway into my room. Clint watched in patronizing disbelief, as though he couldn't understand exactly how I could be this stupid. I kept up a loosely defensive stance, eyes locked solely on him. "That's why you hate me so much, isn't it? You think Tony should've just killed me a month back and be done with it."

"That's not what I was saying," He answered me in an even tone. "And I do not _hate _you. You're not my favorite person in the world to be sure, but I don't _hate _you."

My eyes narrowed. Still wasn't buying it. "Then what _do _you think Tony should've done?"

"Kept a better lid on his technology, for starters," Clint answered easily, shifting his weight to his right foot, his insanely thick arms folding over his chest. Seriously. Beautiful people must all go to the same gym as well.

"Especially seeing as that technology wasn't really _his _to begin with," Clint finished sourly. My brain spun. Ugh, I was getting tired of figuring people out… and yet, I'd never be tired of studying the Avengers. They were just so… interesting. It was like a psych-addiction. Psych-crack.

Clint was a spy, and spies are big on secrecy. The idea that Tony had let something this big slip so 'easily' must have really rubbed him the wrong way. It would be easy for him to displace that frustration, take it out on me. I was, after all, the very symbol of that slip-up; not to mention the fact that I'm a psych student. I liked to pry in people's minds, he liked to keep them out. No wonder he didn't like me.

But still… Clint seemed _decent _at least, if not nice. There was more to it then that; there had to be.

"And, seeing as he has a lot of free time on his hands right now, I think he should be in those labs every day trying to figure out a 'cure'," Clint added, his eyes darkening. "The sooner we get you out of the picture, the safer we'll be; _all _of us."

I noted that carefully, lifting an eyebrow. "So you're _worried _about me, is that it?"

He rolled his eyes again. "You're a civilian. An innocent bystander. And, in all honesty, a security risk."

I noticed that he didn't actually answer my question. "So it _would _be easier just to have me out of the way?"

"I'm not going to kill you, Natalie. If I wanted you dead, you would be."

Somehow, I didn't doubt that; but I decided to push my luck a little. "In a building full of super-powered people who are all trying to keep me alive? I doubt that."

He didn't respond, but his eyes clouded a little. A storm was a-brewin'.

"Look," I said, "You can't _honestly _tell me that the thought hasn't crossed your mind. Get rid of me, get rid of the security risk, get rid of whatever Loki wants. You're a bit of a 'means-to-an-end' kinda guy, am I right?" No response. "Do you really expect me to believe that you haven't _thought _it, at least?"

"Are you _trying _to convince me?" He asked, bemusement on his features and in his body posture; but his eyes remained cold. He was a good actor. But I could see it; I was right.

I ducked into my room, pulling my door up in front of me, peering around it as though it were a shield. "No, no, not at all!" I said, a bit quickly. Clint smiled a little. Smiling was good. Smiling wasn't murdering me in my sleep. "It just doesn't make sense to me, is all," I said, shrugging.

"The thought never crossed my mind," he lied smoothly. He was a good liar. A _very _good liar. So good that I almost believed him. But the evidence was overwhelmingly not in his favor at the moment.

I gave him a toothy grin. "I'm sure," I answered, and my lie was _not_ so good. The two of us fell silent for a moment, and I walked back out of my room again, out from behind the door.

"If you must know…" he said after a moment, then stopped. His eyes traveled to the wall, as though the words were a bit difficult. This seemed genuine, but of course I had no way to be sure. "I am… _concerned._ Loki…" he sighed deeply; the most emotion I'd ever seen him express. He looked back to me, his gaze steady. "It's obvious that Stark's tech lead Loki to target you. But I wonder… I wonder if it's helping him control you as well; helping him get into your mind." He frowned; I couldn't tell if he was lying or not. Damn spies.

He looked away again, his eyes scanning the wall, as though searching for hidden traps, navigating a minefield. "The last time Loki invaded earth, he managed to take control of a large number of people; to get into their heads and manipulate them into his way of thinking. Mind control, complete and absolute." He paused. I listened closely, saying not a word. There was something he wanted to say, and I sure wasn't going to interrupt him.

"I was one of them," he concluded at last. My eyes widened a little, my fingers going limp at my sides; I hadn't even realized they were curled in fists until that moment. "Loki took control of my mind, made me do things that I would never do, made me into… something else." I noted the use of the word 'some_thing' _as opposed to 'some_one'. _Interesting.

He looked back to me. "I got over it. Loki was thrown in prison, locked away for good, and life went on. But now he's doing the same thing to you? A _civilian? _Not one of _us?_"

Those words stung a little, though I was unsure exactly why. I guess I really wasn't one of the Avengers; but sometimes it felt like I _should _be. Like I'd been spending enough time with them that I _ought _to be. Ugh, headache. I pushed the thoughts aside and listened closely to Clint.

His eyes were locked on mine, perfectly steady. I wanted to look away but found I couldn't. "I don't think anyone should go through that, Frost. And I don't want it to happen to you. So yes. I am concerned about you." His gaze softened a touch. "So why would I kill you?"

I shrugged, trying to lighten the mood a little. "I dunno. How would I know what you think? You've barely spoken to me since I got here."

He rolled his eyes a third and final time and turned away. "Here's a suggestion; stop thinking that people will behave like they do in the movies. Especially spies." He started to walk away from me. "Screenwriters always get it wrong."

No. That wasn't true; because he had _definitely _thought about killing me at one point. But I didn't argue with him; we'd made enough dent in the silent wall that had surrounded the two of us already. I turned back to my room and closed the door, mind spinning worse than ever. My life was weird. I needed a nap.

In case you're wondering, I later asked Clint whether or not he seriously considered killing me; and this time I made sure it was the truth. I'll leave it up to your imagination to figure out how I did _that, _but I will say that it involved a bar, a _lot _of Tequila, and Natasha's cell phone. I will also let you know that he paid me back in full for it later, and I learned an important and valuable life lesson; never blackmail a spy. Never. If you value your continued existence, not to mention your sanity, just _don't. _For _any _reason.

At any rate, I asked him whether or not he _had _considered just offing me in the beginning. He was surprised I even remembered that conversation, but he _did _give me a decent answer. He had, in fact, seriously considered it, (thankfully, only as a backup plan) and was even planning on how to do it and looking over his choice of weapons when JARVIS interceded on my behalf. He suggested politely to Clint that the others might not take it so well, and calmly mentioned the many security cameras in my room.

Score one for the robot.

* * *

_Blood is everywhere. I'm drenched in it as I struggle, fighting to get a clear path towards the throne. Loki sits at the top of this mountain, watching me and laughing, those blue eyes locked on me and __**laughing**__. I'm covered in blood, and my vision is tainted crimson in my rage. _

_ He killed them all. My family, my friends, the Avengers. And who can avenge the Avengers? Only me. I'm the only one left. _

_ "But you were never an Avenger to begin with, were you?" Loki says, reading my mind and looking at his hands, as though my innermost thoughts are of no consequence. "You weren't one of them. Oh, they were kind to you, they 'accepted' you. But you were never **one **of them."_

_ I ignore him. I have so much blood on my hands that I lose my grip, sliding down the mountain; but once I find another handhold, I keep climbing. I will kill him. I will kill him if it's the last thing I ever do._

_ "Oh, so you're a killer now?" Loki asks, grinning. "How **fascinating**. I thought you were **better **then that."_

_ I kick and fight through the armies, slide in the mud and the dirt and the blood. I don't care about the people attacking me; I just have to get to Loki. I have to destroy him. Nothing else matters anymore. _

_ "Oh. I guess you're not." He smiles, as though there's another joke coming, as though he's about to deliver the punch line. I don't care. I don't listen. I just keep fighting, knocking his soldiers aside as they try to stop me, feeling their blood weigh heavy on my hands… I don't care. I have to stop Loki. I have to kill Loki. _

_ "Because you are a killer now," He says, and snaps his fingers. I'm in the middle of slamming my fist into one of his men's face when suddenly they shimmer and transform._

_ And I'm holding Steve by his collar, my hand reeled back to strike him again, my knuckles dripping with his blood._

_ I drop him, taking a step back, and trip over a body; I stumble back into the dirt, sliding down the mountain a touch. It's Tony. Tony's body._

_ My heart starts pounding. I fall back, looking at the Avengers lying scattered around me; and among their limp and lifeless bodies, the forms of my mother, father, and April. This blood… this blood that's on me… Loki didn't put it there. I did. _

_ I killed them all. _

_ I stare in shock and horror as Loki laughs. I collapse next to Bruce's body, my hands trembling as I shake him gently, trying to wake him up, though I know it's futile. _

_ "What's wrong, Miss Frost?" Loki asks me, sitting back in his throne. "Didn't you **know?**"_

_ I lift Bruce's head in my arms, and tears start flowing down my cheeks. Loki smiles at me. _

_ "This is who you really are inside."_

"NATALIE!"

I bolted awake, screaming at the top of my lungs. There were hands everywhere, holding me down, trying to keep me still as I thrashed and screamed, screamed as loud as I could.

"Natalie, please! Wake up!" Someone shouted beside me. I kept kicking and thrashing; what were they talking about? I was awake! I was awake, and this was all real, and I was a murderer…

No. No. I couldn't be. Because that was _Tony's _voice.

"Natalie, come on!" Steve encouraged me, as Banner ordered, "Someone get the syringe!"

I tried to stop kicking, to stop fighting them, but it just seemed so natural. So right. My heart was pounding, racing at top speed, and I just wanted to get away, wanted to _run. _I wanted to get away from those eyes, from that _laughter._ His laugh still rang in my head, that sick, twisted noise, and I had to _get away. _I had to _run. _Oh, please, just let me run away…

"Natalie, Natalie, come on, you can do this," someone pleaded; it sounded like Steve. "Just wake up."

I concentrated on his voice. Listened to _his_ voice; not the serpentine one in my head, not the beautiful liar in my dreams. I searched about frantically for his eyes amid the chaos of faces and hands, and finally I locked onto them. I could barely breathe; my air was coming in quick, short gasps and I was trembling, shaking so badly.

I kept my eyes on him, and Steve sighed a little in relief. "That's it, Frost. Calm down, it's ok, you've just got to _keep calm._"

My mouth opened and closed a few times, like a fish out of water. I stared up at him in panic. "Can't… breathe," I managed to get out after a moment.

"It's ok, Natalie," he said carefully. "You'll breathe. You'll be fine. You've just got to _calm down, _do you hear me?" I nodded fiercely. "It was just a dream. Whatever it was, it was just a dream."

I tried to believe him. I really did. But it had felt real. It had felt so _real…_

And it _wasn't _a dream. It was Loki.

The name sent my blood boiling; my heart pounded in my ears. I had to keep calm, but this time there was no soothing voice in my head, no kind words from a man I believed to be good… Tears sprang to my eyes. Ugh, this was hell on a girl's emotions!

I kept my focus on Steve, then on Banner as I managed to distinguish his face from the crowd. His face was still calm, despite the small bead of sweat on his forehead. He had a Hulk inside him, waiting to explode; if he could keep that contained, then I could do this.

I tried to take a few deep breaths, repeating in my head: _it wasn't real, it wasn't real, it wasn't real. _The attempts were feeble at first, but with each breath more and more air got into my lungs, and slowly, _slowly, _I started to calm down. My heart became less rapid. I cleared up one face at a time, unscrambling the Avengers' features piece by piece; Tony's eyes, Clint's hair, Natasha's chin… I locked on to each feature and stayed with it until the rest of their face became clear once more.

My heart was still bounding; I could _feel _each beat, slamming against my rib cage like it was trying to escape. But the frantic pace had slowed. I breathed in, looking back to Steve. He looked a lot clearer now, and he was keeping up a quiet mantra of, "It's ok, now, you're ok. It was only a dream. It wasn't real. You're safe now."

The hands started to release me as my kicking and struggling ceased, and now I was free to sit up straight; which I did. My head throbbed, and I clutched my forehead in my hands, groaning.

For a long time, everyone was silent. Banner set the syringe he'd been preparing aside; thank goodness. Needles would've made everything worse, no matter what sedative he was going to give me. No one spoke for a moment, but Steve's hand rested on my shoulder, and I knew all eyes were on me. I wasn't looking at anyone; my eyes were closed and I was taking a few more breaths to stabilize myself.

Finally, Tony asked what they were all wondering: "What the hell was _that, _Pizza Girl?"

I looked up at him exhaustedly, then to the clock on the other side of the room. I'd only been asleep for an hour; I'd hoped to sleep through the night, but now I'd be up way late and it was all Loki's fault. Bastard.

I hugged my arms close to my body; my stomach was twisting, anxiety stabbing through my gut. I lowered my head between my knees and took a few more deep breaths. I was still shaking. "I don't know," I answered at last. "A bad dream, I guess."

"A bad dream?" Tony asked, incredulous and- I was surprised to realize- angry. "A _bad dream? _You didn't think you should maybe _tell _us you had night terrors _before _any of this happened? _Before _you went to sleep without us knowing that you could… _explode _at any _second?"_

I glared up at him. "I don't _have _night terrors," I found myself spitting out. I didn't need this right now. I had my own anger without having to deal with _his, _thank you very much. "I never have."

"It's Loki," Clint said, and I saw him set his bow aside on a nearby table. It was only then that I realized most of the people in the room were armed. Tony was wearing his armor, Steve had his shield, and Natasha had a gun in her hand. They must've thought the worst, hearing me screaming like that. "He's doing this to her."

_No shit, Sherlock,_ I wanted to snap, as well as a few more choice words, but I didn't feel comfortable saying most of them in front of Steve. And Clint was on my side of the argument for once; that was something I probably shouldn't jeopardize.

All eyes went to me. None of them, perhaps, were more worried than my own, which I lowered to the ground. This was bad news. Loki was already in my head, and I knew he'd been in my dreams… but never like _this. _

If he could make me afraid in my sleep, if he could give me nightmares so real that I couldn't help but react… I might not have a choice but to release the Death Bubble. He'd get what he wanted, and there would be nothing I could do to stop it. If that was what he wanted. I still wasn't sure.

"We've got to stop him," Banner said. His voice was cool and calm and stilled my buzzing veins. "We have to make sure this never happens again."

"How?" I croaked. "Keep me from sleeping? _That's _going to work."

He shot me a look. "We'll find a way," he said reassuringly.

I rolled my eyes and pulled my legs up onto my bed, curling into a ball. "Thanks, doc," I said, and I wasn't sure if I was being sarcastic or not. The others looked around at each other, and at me, worriedly.

"Come on, everyone," Steve said at last. "Give her some space." He looked back to me. "We'll… we'll talk later, all right?"

I almost panicked again; I didn't want to be alone right now. Sure, I didn't want _everyone _to be there with me, but I didn't want to be _alone, _either. I was spared from the awkwardness of explaining this when an unlikely hero came to my rescue; Tony.

"Actually," he said, a little darkly, "You and I have to talk _now._"

Steve frowned, his hand tightening a little on his shield. I cut in before things could get argue-y. "It's ok, Steve," I said, surprised by how weak and weary my voice sounded. I cleared my throat and tried again. "It's fine."

Rodgers' eyes narrowed on Tony, but he turned and left the room. Tony folded his arms over his chest; I don't think I've ever seen him look that serious. I was still waiting for the punch line.

He studied me for a long moment, then sighed. "You've got a nasty right hook, Pizza girl," he said, rubbing his jaw. My eyebrows went up.

"I punched you?"

"Yeah."

"In my sleep?"

"Yep."

I grinned, unable to help myself. "You got beat up by a girl? A _sleeping _girl?"

He rolled his eyes. "No. I got beat up by _you._ There's a difference."

I scowled. My eyes scanned his jaw line, where I could only now identify the shadow of a would-be bruise. "That's gonna leave a mark," I said.

"Tell me about it. My looks are all I have; oh, wait. That's a lie."

"That _is _a lie; you don't even have your looks."

His eyes narrowed on me, and he gave me one of those 'I'm-watching-you' gestures; using two fingers to point first at his eyes, then mine. I giggled a little, and it was embarrassingly girly-sounding. I knew he probably had about fifty comebacks prepared for what I'd just said, but he was letting me win right now.

"Thank you," I said after a moment. Tony looked at me.

"For what?"

"You know what, Toaster Man." I slugged him in the arm. He pulled up a chair and sat on it backwards. "For trying to make me feel better."

"I wasn't trying to make you feel better."

"You so were."

"Nuh-uh."

I chuckled. "Then why are you still here?"

He pointedly rubbed the soon-to-be bruise. "I'm plotting my revenge," he answered.

"Oooh, I'm scared."

"You better be."

"You're pathetic, Stark."

"Do you feel better?"

"A little, yeah."

"Then imaginary mission accomplished." He gave me a quick grin, but then it died away. My stomach twisted; his words were almost like Loki's, when I'd first met him… I almost wondered if I was still dreaming, if this was just how Loki thought I viewed Stark… but I shook it off. If I was dreaming, then I was dreaming. Nothing I could do about it.

"What was it about?"

I jumped; I'd been too wrapped up in my thoughts to see that Tony was staring at me. "What?" I asked.

"Your dream. What was it about?"

"Oh." I considered. I didn't want to tell him the truth. In fact, I didn't want to tell him anything. If he found out I was murdering the Avengers in my sleep… well, I might as well hand myself over to Clint with a big fat target painted on my forehead.

"I don't… don't really wanna talk about it," I answered at last.

Stark shrugged. "Fair enough. I only ask because you were shouting, 'Not Tony, please not Tony.'"

I flushed, my face burning. "I really said that?"

"Plain as day. It sounded like you'd lost me." He wiggled his eyebrows roguishly. "Got a secret crush, O Normal One?"

"You wish, Freak," I shoved his chair back a bit. He grinned and we fell silent for a moment. I rubbed my arm carefully, then finally said, "You were dead. All of you. The Avengers. My family. My friends. Loki killed you." I looked away. "Or… he tricked me into killing you."

His eyebrow went up. "And that scared you?" He snorted. "You couldn't kill us if you tried, Nat."

I scowled, holding up my wrist where the silver bracelet rested; the one that controlled the nanobots in my blood, if I could just figure out how to work it. "Really, Stark? Because I don't know _what _I can do anymore." My hand slammed back down onto my mattress. "I don't know what I _am_ anymore."

Tony rolled his eyes. "You're still the same old Natalie Frost we all know and tolerate. A few machines in your blood aren't going to change that, no matter how much we hope it will."

I gave him a glare. "Have you forgotten the fact that I'm _indestructible_? If Loki succeeds… who knows what I'll do to you." I shivered.

Tony just blew it off with an airy wave of the hand. "You worry too much. We can take care of ourselves."

"Can you?" I asked, my voice going very quiet all of a sudden. I curled up on the bed again, sitting upright but crouched in a ball. "Can you really?" I looked up at him.

He only rolled his eyes again. "Of course we can, Frost. Don't worry about it; it'll just make that whole 'Bubble of Doom' thing start again."

I looked away. "Stark?"

"What now?"

"You won't hesitate, will you?"

He frowned, his eyebrows furrowing. He was confused; and confusion didn't agree well with Tony Stark. "What do you mean?"

I looked up at him, in the eye. I didn't want to tell him what I was thinking. I didn't want to explain. But I had to. I had to know.

I had to face the truth.

I swallowed painfully. "When… if Loki does get control of me… if I'm indestructible and all that jazz…if I try to hurt you or anyone else… you won't hesitate, right?" I couldn't look at him anymore; my eyes darted to the ground, and I suddenly found the carpet incredibly interesting. "You'll… you'll…" I couldn't finish. Trying to smile a little and failing pretty miserably, I drew an imaginary line across my throat. "Off me?" I finally concluded.

I didn't look to Tony, but I could hear the horror in his voice. "It…" He cleared his throat. "It won't come to that, Nat."

"But will you do it?" I demanded, my eyes whipping back to him. He looked a bit uncomfortable. We weren't the best of friends, not even close, but Tony was a good guy. The thought of killing someone 'innocent' naturally repelled him. "If I'm a danger to you or anyone else, will you stop me? No matter what happens to me?" My hands clutched the sheets beneath me tightly. Tony sat back, unnerved.

"No. I won't," he answered. "Because it _won't come to that._" He stood. "You need to get your mind off of this. Watch a movie. Read a book. Do something else."

"Yeah," I snapped. "Anything but go back to sleep, right?" Tony frowned at me. "Please, Stark," I pleaded. "You have to promise me this. It's… it's all that matters now."

"Look, Nat. I want to kill you all the time. Don't give me an excuse." He grinned, but it was weaker than before.

_"Please-_" I tried, but he cut me off.

"_No._" He said firmly. His tone clearly ended the matter; Tony rarely spoke harshly, but when he did, you knew he was beyond serious. I almost opened my mouth to try again, but his look silenced me; I closed my mouth and nodded, tight-lipped. The two of us stayed in terse silence for a while.

To be honest, I was pissed. Tony had that parent-talking-now-so-shut-up tone in his voice; the one you didn't dare question or you'd be grounded for a month. And I hated it. I hated that I still listened to it. But I also knew that there was no other option; he wasn't going to hear me.

Finally, Tony let out a quick sigh, then pretended to go back to his usual self. 'Pretended' being the operative word here. "Look… why don't I get you some ice cream? You like ice cream, right?"

"Love it," I answered flatly.

"Butter pecan?"

"Sounds great."

"All right. And I'll get you a movie; what about that new chick flick? The one that just came out in theaters?"

"You get me a chick flick and I'll rip your eyes out," I replied; it would have sounded more like our usual banter if my tone wasn't so dull and dead.

"Then what do you want?"

"I don't care. Just nothing gooey." I picked up one of my books and buried myself in it, closing the matter in my own fashion. I felt like such a bratty little kid. Only I wasn't arguing with my parents about grades and clothes; I was arguing with my superhero roommate about my death and the end of the world. I was making just about as much progress, though.

"Fine," he answered, as though trying to be nice. I ignored him, acting like I was reading, my eyes traveling along the lines of words but taking in nothing.

As he left the room, I started thinking. So Tony wasn't going to grow up and be responsible when it really mattered. Fine. There were other Avengers. Some of which would be all too happy to kill me if things got too rough.

Clint was the obvious choice. Thinking back to it, I probably should've just asked him first. But it would've been nicer to have the guarantee from someone just a little more… powerful. Clint was dangerous, to be sure, but he was only human. And I would be indestructible; and possibly under the crazy mind control of an Asgardian. A man from myth and legend. And Clint would have a fancy bow and arrow. Not great odds.

Natasha was another good choice; but with the same problems. She was, in the end, only human. Not like some of the others. An incredible assassin, and not someone I would want fighting against me, but human nonetheless.

Steve… Maybe. Maybe he would agree. He might be able to do it; but then again, maybe not. I doubted it, though. He was a super soldier, true. But I… I had to assume that it wouldn't work; even if he did agree, which I wasn't so sure he would. I decided to ask him, though; just in case.

That left only one choice; and perhaps the most glaringly obvious one. Banner. The Hulk. He said he'd bring out his 'darker half' if necessary-and it probably would be necessary at some point- and the Hulk had the best chance of all of them at destroying my bubble; and me. Banner knew what it was like to be uncontrollable. He would understand. I was almost certain he'd agree; and he was my best bet.

I guess I felt a little better; but at that point I wasn't so sure. I was contemplating my own death here, with about as much emotion as I would put into deciding what kind of sandwich to have for lunch. No, scratch that, I usually put more emotion in lunch. _(You got me tuna? Tuna is evil! It rises from the sea to eat our brains!) _

"You're a morbid one, aren't you?"

Following this statement, which came out of thin air and from the beautiful voice that I now knew to hate, three things happened at once. The first: I jumped so badly that I smacked my head against the wall behind me. Second; I threw my book in the direction of the sound.

And third, I shouted, "Die, son of a bitch!" For no apparent reason. All three of these things happened at exactly the same time, and only took a few seconds. It was all purely reflexive; which says a lot about me, if that's the first thing I shout when startled. The book I'd thrown missed by an inch, slamming into the wall. Loki- because of course it was him, the little weasel- smiled patronizingly at me, causing a string of curses to sound off in my head.

"Already thinking about your own death, Miss Frost?" He inquired, still nauseatingly polite. I wanted to just get my hands around his throat for a few seconds and start to throttle him… just long enough to see his face turn purple. With this satisfying fantasy in my head, I glowered at him.

"What do _you _want?" I demanded in a sneer.

He ignored me. "I'd rather thought it would take longer than this." He informed me. "But you're already acting as though I've taken control." His eyes were bright, twinkling mischievously. No, a little worse than mischievous. Malignant, maybe. "You seem to be taking the whole 'mind control' thing for granted."

"You seem to be talking a lot," I retorted. "What do you want?"

He smiled at me. "I just wanted to see what was happening with my favorite mortal. My brother was right about your kind; you _are _somewhat interesting." His smile grew a little. "If you behave, I may even keep you alive, as my pet."

"Yeah… that ain't gonna happen."

He chuckled. "I wouldn't be so sure." He turned away, walking over to the window and looking out it. There was a strange look in his eye; almost… nostalgic. No. No, that wasn't right. But whatever it was, it sent a small pang of sympathy through me. "Rest assured, Natalie Frost. I've seen your dreams, your nightmares. I will bring those nightmares to life; you _will _destroy the Avengers for me." He half-turned back to me, still smiling. "But it will be no accident. And you will not be under my control. You will do so willingly."

I started making 'blah, blah, blah' hand motions. "And you will be free to conquer the earth with fire and ice and everything will die screaming. Yadda yadda yadda." I feigned a yawn. "Are we done yet?"

He still seemed amused rather than angry. He smiled at me, then looked away again. "You continue to laugh, but I know the fear in your heart. You _will_ do as I command. You _will _destroy the Avengers."

"Hey, Loki?" I waited until he'd turned to look at me, then, "Bite me."

He completely turned to face me now, bemused. "I am merely warning you of the inevitable, Natalie. You've seen what I can do. I did not want you to become indestructible today, and so you did not. I can make your fears become reality in dreams, of course, make you lose control in that manner… but where's the fun in that?"

"I reiterate," I said clearly. "_Bite me." _

He laughed softly. "It's good to see you in such… high spirits," he said. I was tempted to throw my fist into his nose, but I knew it would do me no good. Man, I really wanted something I could _punch. _"I'll see you soon, Miss Frost."

"You do that."

He headed towards the door; I doubted he needed to use it, but I was grateful he did, because it gave me time to call, "Oh, and Loki?"

He looked back, half-turning again. "Yes?"

"When we win? When the Avengers beat you into a pulp, and I point and laugh and eat popcorn?" I grinned viciously. I knew my next blow was going to be a low one, if it even worked. But I didn't care. "Do you think Daddy will be proud of you then?"

He seemed to blanch a little, but he didn't respond. I knew I'd hit him where he lived with that one. So it wasn't all a lie. He'd spoken to me about some of his 'father issues' when trying to identify with me; and it hadn't all been a lie. First rule of lying was to base it in truth, after all; but that only worked if no one found out you were lying. I laughed aloud, mockingly and cruel. Loki turned away and vanished through the door, and I kept laughing.

Houston, we have an edge.


	7. A Family Affair

**A/N: Sorry for the late update! **

It was four o'clock in the morning, and my head hurt like hell. I'd moved from my room and into one of the TV rooms, putting some mindless sitcom on in the background while I drank coffee until my brain felt like jelly. I was trying to stay awake, I really was, and the Avengers were doing their best to help. They were taking shifts staying awake with me, but no one really knew whether they should let me sleep or not. I had told them about Loki's most recent visit, though I'd contemplated keeping it quiet; but they all agreed that Loki could very easily be lying about whether or not he was going to make me lose it through my dreams. No one knew what to do; but for now, they were keeping watch. Making sure that, if I _did _fall asleep, my dreams didn't threaten the world's existence.

It was Clint's turn right now; he hadn't spoken to me once this entire time. He simply sat next to me, his eyes on the TV screen, but I suspected that he wasn't really watching it. He was so… alert, for someone who was awake so early in the morning. I glanced to the clock; his shift would end soon. I'd been trying to ask him the 'Death Question' since it began, but every time I looked at his face, so stoic and serious, I found myself clamming up.

I looked to him now, trying to read his expression. Nothing. But he noticed I was watching, because he sighed through his nose.

"Is there something you want to say, Frost?" He demanded. I swallowed; Tony said he didn't tell any of the other Avengers about my 'request', so Clint would have no idea of what I wanted to ask. I was sure he'd be happy about it, though.

I frowned, then, gathering my courage and steeling myself against the fear that threatened to overwhelm me, I said, "Yeah, actually."

He turned to face me, ignoring the sitcom as canned laughter blared through the speakers. I clutched my coffee mug close to me, trying to warm up my freezing blood. He met my eyes; say whatever you like about Big Bird, but he'll listen to you when you talk, if it's important enough. I took a quick gulp of coffee, singeing the tip of my tongue.

"Well?" He asked, after I was silent for a while. I shivered, setting the mug aside and curling in on myself a little. I took a deep breath; I was almost afraid that if I _did_ ask, he wouldn't wait until the end of the world was imminent; he'd just shoot me now. But I had to ask, because I hadn't had the courage to ask any of the others yet. And besides, the coffee was helping me make some rash decisions.

"This whole 'mind control' thing," I started. Clint's eyebrow went up. "If I… I mean, if Loki _does _get control of me… And I'm like, killing things? If the world's at stake…"

"Yes," he said firmly, and turned away, back to the TV screen. I froze.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I will kill you."

My eyes popped. "How'd you…?"

"I have my ways."

I swallowed, turning my gaze back to the TV. But my eyes didn't want to go off of him. Survival instinct, I suppose; this man had just agreed to take my life, after all. "Didn't take you long to figure out your answer," I mumbled, a little nervously. I hugged my legs close to my body.

He didn't reply for a second; in fact, I didn't think he even would. But then he said, "Anyone who has the courage to ask that question deserves the right answer."

Damn, I wish he'd said that when I was a little more awake. It would've been interesting if I could keep my attention on his words for longer than three seconds at a time.

I hesitated. "Thanks," I said after a moment. He nodded curtly in response.

"I can give no guarantees, though," He warned me, looking back at me. I didn't turn to face him; my eyes were on the glowing screen. "You should probably ask someone else as well; someone stronger, perhaps. A contingency plan."

"Already thought of that," I answered, picking up my coffee again. I didn't drink any; I just watched the steam drifting upwards, leaning my face towards it to keep out the cold. "I asked Tony."

Clint almost laughed. Almost. "What did he say?"

I was surprised he was even bothering to ask questions, surprised he actually seemed to care about the conversation. "He refused."

"Why am I not surprised?"

I snorted, and he looked to me. "You gonna ask anyone else?"

I chugged back about half of the coffee, making it slosh around uncomfortably in my stomach. I nodded in response. "Bruce. I think he's my best bet."

"Interesting," he admitted, nodding a few times.

"Actually, I'm going to ask everyone," I added. "I just think that Bruce would agree; and actually be able to do it." I held out my hands and pretended to weigh something in each. "Hulk vs Bubble."

"You sure he'll agree?"

"Fairly."

Clint fell silent. "I'll let Natasha know. She'll go along with it." He sounded confident.

"Thanks." I took another sip of coffee and set it aside ruefully. No matter how much coffee I'd drunk, I hated to leave any of it left over. It was a weird thing with me.

"Don't…" I started, then frowned. "Don't tell the others, ok? Bruce… Steve… I want to ask them myself."

Clint studied me; just as intently as I had always studied him. He may not like people poking around in his mind, trying to figure out how _he _worked, but I was willing to bet he was pretty good at figuring out other people. But then, he'd have to be. "Sure," he answered, turning away again. I traced patterns on the couch with my fingernail. I was so _tired. _

The two of us didn't say another word until Clint left to go and wake the next Avenger for their shift; he turned to me and asked, "Think you can stay awake for two minutes, unsupervised?"

I pointed at the mug on the table. "Coffee," was my only response. Clint chuckled and left the room; he didn't need any more explanation then that. I wondered who'd be next; I hadn't really bothered to listen when they divided up the times. Bruce had spent the first few hours with me, then Natasha and finally Clint; so it was either Steve or Tony.

Tony and I hadn't spoken since I'd asked him the Death Question, so I desperately hoped it wouldn't be him; and, thankfully, it wasn't. Steve smiled tiredly at me as he entered the room, then sat down next to me as I flicked through channels, trying to find something relatively innocent. I finally reached an old baseball game and let it play; I hated sports myself, but I wasn't really watching the TV anyway.

Steve soon shook out of his tiredness; he never really slept for long. I, on the other hand, almost passed out on his shoulder. By the time five o'clock hit, I felt like my head was going to crack open. But I couldn't sleep. I'd tried. Every time my eyes closed too long, or I started to drift, the sound of laughter and a flashing picture of bright blue eyes would shock me awake.

This happened a few times while Steve was here; the final time, at around five o'clock, my head somehow ended up on his arm, and when I shot awake, I startled him as well. I looked up at him and released his arm quickly, sitting bolt upright and staring at the TV screen, making my eyes go wide for a second. Steve smiled kindly at me.

"It's all right, Natalie. You can go to sleep." He said reassuringly. Steve was just too nice for his own good. "I'll make sure nothing happens," he assured me, turning his gaze back to the game. I had no idea what was happening on the screen; even if I could clear my vision enough to recognize what was happening, I knew little to nothing about the rules of baseball.

I ran my hands down my face, closing my eyes for just a fraction of a second too long and almost passing out again. I shook my head. "I can't," I whispered painfully. "I'm _trying, _but I just… _can't._"

He frowned, looking to me. I went on, "Every time I try… I just keep seeing him there…" I looked up at him. "I hate this."

He watched me for a moment, then stood up. "Get dressed," he told me, walking to the door and obeying his own instructions, putting on a sweater. I watched him, confused. "Go on," he prodded, and I stood, shuffling up to my room. I changed out of my pajamas, into the warmest outfit I could find. I was way too tired for makeup, or even brushing my hair, so once that was done, I took the elevator back to the floor where Steve was waiting. He'd pulled on a pair of boots and was now smiling gently at me.

"Are we seriously going outside?" I asked, yawning hugely. He brought a finger to his lips, shushing me, and nodded. "Fun," I said sarcastically.

He chuckled. "There's something I want to show you," he said, and my eyebrows went up. I pulled on some boots of my own and followed him as he headed to the elevator. He made sure the door didn't close on me as I entered, then stopped me as I reached for the button for the bottom floor. "Not today, Frost," he said, and tapped the button for the top. I frowned.

"I've been to the penthouse before," I told him. "It's not that impressive."

He kept smiling. "I know."

I scowled. I like surprises on occasion, but at the moment I was tired and cranky, and surprises really weren't on the list of things I wanted to deal with right now. We reached the penthouse after a moment, and Steve led me onwards. I shuffled after him warily, my footsteps heavy and my limbs like lead. Ugh, I wanted to sleep.

He stopped me at one point, pointing to a place in the middle of the floor. I nodded; I knew the spot. That was where the Hulk had creamed Loki; marked with a plaque when it was rebuilt, because Tony thought it was hilarious and should be remembered for all time. I'd heard bits and pieces of the story; though Banner had always seemed a bit too modest to talk about it.

"I've seen it," I told Steve, though I had to admit, the idea of Loki being pulverized by the Jolly Green Giant did make me smile a little bit. "Is that all?"

He shook his head and walked through a few rooms, with me tagging along apprehensively. He reached a door that I hadn't even known was there and opened it; there was a staircase that led upwards. My eyebrow lifted. So we were going to the roof. I knew there were a few ways to get there, but this one was new to me. He gestured for me to go first, and I did so.

The two of us arrived on the roof in total darkness. But it was a beautiful darkness, and made alight by the hundreds of buildings around us, every window a square of gold in the perfect blackness. Maybe it was the sleep-deprivation kicking in, but at that moment, I couldn't believe how beautiful it all was. I'd been up here a few times, but never at night.

And beyond the darkness, beyond the lights… there was the snow. Snow was everywhere, dusting the buildings in crystal, and painting the world far below us white. The buildings stuck out against the snow, black and gold against pale white. I was standing in the snow, my breath fogging in front of my eyes before curling upwards to the straining stars.

"'The city that never sleeps,'" Steve quoted, walking up next to me. I stared at the brilliant dark. I'd lived here my whole life, and I'd never appreciated the beauty of this place until now. I was no architect, but I could still see the artwork in each towering skyscraper, as beautifully crafted as any sculpture or painting. Steve's grin flashed a bright white in the darkness beside me. "Wait 'till you see what happens when it wakes up."

I stared out at the brilliance of it all, and started towards the edge. My boots crunched in the snow, leaving my footprints in the otherwise undamaged beauty. "What does this have to do with Loki?" I asked after a moment of staring.

"Absolutely nothing," he responded. "That's the point." He gestured widely to the gorgeous skyline around us. "All of this… he destroyed it all, Natalie."

I frowned. Was that where this was going? A 'you-can-always-rebuild' kinda thing? But before I could ask, he turned to me. "But New York didn't let him."

I thought that over, looking to the skyline again. So I wasn't supposed to 'let' Loki destroy me, was that it? Well, it wasn't like I had a choice. But I didn't respond. I simply watched the black-gold-and-white darkness in silence. For a long time, neither of us said a word; so long that the faintest hint of grey began to appear on the horizon.

If I thought the darkness was beautiful, it was nothing compared to the light.

It started off with the barest hint of color, then exploded into scattered, fractured magnificence. The skyscrapers stood their own against the sun and its colors, black monoliths that reached upwards, towards the ever-lightning sky and its disappearing stars. Oranges, pinks, purples, and even the hint of green banished the darkness.

And wherever it struck the snow… it seemed to reflect a thousand times over, the crystal catching the colors and throwing them out, the whiteness turning to gold and burnt orange.

I watched the sun's rise in silent awe; a lot of the exhaustion had been frozen out of my limbs by the icy air, but it was the absence of fear that I noticed more than that. I felt a little… safer. Though I wasn't sure of why; nothing had changed. Loki was still in my head. I was still in danger at every second. I still wanted to know who would be on my side and willing to kill me if the time came and who wouldn't. But I was safe, for some reason.

Steve stepped up next to me. "Loki can take a lot from you, Natalie," he said carefully, quietly, watching the sun's slow progression into the sky. "He can take your friends, your control, your very life. But he can't take away your memories; he can't take away _who you are._" Steve gently turned me to face him, placing his hands on my shoulders and looking me in the eye. "This time, right here, right now… Loki _can't _take that from you."

**_Can't I?_**

The words echoed in my brain, an order and a challenge, snarled out in fury. I stumbled back, hunched over as though I'd been punched in the gut. The air was knocked out of me, and my mind was sent into spinning chaos. I gasped, my eyes wide and unseeing as blackness spun around in my thoughts, as Loki's laughter filled my ears. Fiery, blistering pain tried to split my skull in two, and I tripped over my own feet, tripped over the snow, falling backwards. My eyes went back to the once-beautiful sky.

_Look at it now, Frost, _Loki's voice said dangerously in my head. _Look at that thing of beauty. Watch as I take it away. Watch as I take __**everything **__from you._

I stared at the skies; which had suddenly turned dark and hideous red, blackness interweaving inside it in living shadows. These shadows reached towards me with clawed hands, dancing and laughing, mocking me. Blood dribbled from the sun and the sky turned to ash and cinders. I scrambled backwards in the snow, then stopped and clutched my head in my hands.

"Natalie?" Steve asked, panicked, but Loki just laughed again. And then I saw him standing behind the Captain, and a blade emerged from Steve's chest, covered in crimson. I started screaming as Loki smiled, allowing Steve's body to drop to the ground and stain the snow with red. He started to walk towards me with the blade, still coated in Steve's blood. Loki's eyes were alight with black fire as he raised the silver blade above my head.

"Not real!" I managed to gasp out, pushing myself backwards. Loki just smiled and continued to advance. "You're not real!"

Loki laughed again, and the blade swung down. I crossed my arms above my head. "You're _not real!_" I screamed.

When no death blow came, I peered upwards, looking tentatively out at the world. Loki waited until I lowered my arms before tucking the blade beneath my chin.

"Does it matter if I am real or not?" He asked. I remained frozen; I could _feel _the cold touch of metal against my throat. How could that be an illusion? "You have never once seen me, Miss Frost, and yet somehow you believe me to exist. Somehow, I am unraveling your life. I am taking away everything you love."

I stared up at him in terror, my heart pounding again, drumming out its familiar tattoo. My hands trembled in the snow at my side.

"And now I shall take your memories; I shall take everything you remember, and everything that will be a memory… I shall take away everything that makes you into what you are."

Somehow, I couldn't help but be scared. But another part of me-the part that had decided to ask the Avengers to kill me if things got too rough- refused to be afraid. This part took over and I said what was probably the stupidest comment of my life. "Is this revenge for the whole 'daddy' thing?"

Loki's eyes narrowed; it was, perhaps, the first time I'd ever seen him angry. It was always the gloating, arrogant smiles with him. I'd heard him shout before… but this time, there was true murder in his eyes. I had a sneaking suspicion that I was about to die a horribly painful death.

The sword in his hands pressed closer against my throat. "Still making jokes?" He asked in a quiet, venomous whisper. Fear choked the back of my throat, and I almost whimpered. Almost.

"Not for long," he whispered, coming closer to my face, his lips right next to my ear. I could feel his breath on my skin; it was… cold. How was that possible? "I am going to show you the meaning of the word 'fear', Natalie Frost. You will beg for the end before it comes."

Threatening me. Trying to keep me afraid. But _why? _I couldn't think about it. Because, I'll admit, I_ was _afraid. I was terror-struck. Loki removed the blade from my throat, leaving some of Steve's blood on my chin. My eyes went to his body on the ground, at the shadows which clawed at him, which reached towards me. This world was a nightmare, and I couldn't wake up…

"Never forget," Loki said, kicking Steve's corpse. "I can take _everything _from you."

Was it something Steve said? Did Loki feel threatened? Was Steve onto something? No. Loki wasn't dumb enough to attack right after something like that. He knew I'd figure it out; he was learning not to underestimate me. Slowly, but he _was _learning.

There had to be something else…

_Was_ it revenge? Had my little offhand (and incredibly stupid) comment been right? Loki wanted me alive, so he wouldn't kill me… but he had to do _something._ Punish me for my 'insolence'. He already viewed himself as a king. Already viewed me as his subject; and more then that, his slave. So he was 'discouraging' a certain kind of behavior. Well, it was going to take a lot more than a little fear and some pain to chase away _my _attitude.

And now I _knew _I'd really hit him hard. Those daddy issues ran deep.

Loki turned away from me. But my mind was buzzing; I had drunk about thirteen cups of coffee, hadn't slept in forever, and also ate about two tubs of ice cream in the course of the last nine hours. There was enough sugar, caffeine, and sleep deprivation in my system to give me a lot of really, brilliantly_ insane_ ideas.

The brilliantly insane idea in question? Loki was in my head. It was time I got into his. Quite literally.

I stood slowly, then closed my eyes. I'd talked to Loki in my head before, simply by thinking on a certain sentence or phrase clearly. If he could read my mind like that, and I could hear his responses… then maybe there was something more than that. This link between us wasn't just about surface thoughts; there was something deeper involved, I was sure. How else would he be able to twist my nightmares, to project these hallucinations?

I tried to calm the screaming in my head, tried to rid myself of the pain, the exhaustion, the fear. I tried to ignore all of my emotions, all of _my _thoughts. I was listening to something else, listening for some_one _else.

It took me a moment; but in reality, it was more like a few seconds; Loki was still walking towards the edge when I found him. His thoughts, pressing against mine lightly, always there, always listening. Just in case I said or did anything that he didn't like. Listening to what we learned, what we knew of him.

I focused on the quiet whispers of his mind, the terrors of his heart. There had to be something I could use against him, something I could learn about him, some way I could get him out of my head for good…

Loki froze; he must've felt me in his mind. He turned to me slowly, menacingly. "What," he said in a voice like a shadow, "Are you doing?"

I tried to smile at him, but in doing so I almost lost my concentration. So I simply kept my focus, listening to the quiet whispers in the back of my mind.

Loki's mind. There be monsters, let me tell you.

His eyes narrowed on me. Ooh, he did _not_ like having the tables turned on him; not one bit. My hands clenched in fists at my sides as my head started to burn. Loki was trying to keep me out. But I didn't care.

"Do you really think you could comprehend the depths of my mind, mortal? With a mind so small and childish as your own?"

I ignored him, ignored the pain that was now blinding me. I was trying to find something. The pain intensified, and I grit my teeth, catching my lip in the process and drawing blood. There had to be something here, something I could use against him…

I saw his hands curling into tight fists at his side as, struggling against the pain, I managed to say, "You're… a monster." I looked up at him; sweat was beading on my forehead, and I laughed cruelly. "Daddy always viewed you as a monster, didn't he, for all of those years?" Loki's eyes narrowed even further, into thin slits, and screaming pain raged through my mind, spiking through my entire body. I collapsed to my knees, crying out and clutching my head in my hands. But I didn't stop. I kept looking. Kept searching.

"Oh, and always living in the shadow of big brother," I sneered, looking up into his blue eyes. My vision was red and I felt like my hair was on fire, my head was so hot. But I didn't care. I was winning. I could see it in Loki's eyes; I was _winning._

"How… _sentimental,_" I threw the word out there like a swear.

_Say another word, mortal, _his voice boomed in my head, _and I will crush your skull._

_ You can't __**touch **__me,_ I snarled back, making it echo as loudly in his mind as his voice always echoed in mine.

_I can kill __**them,**_he answered, and a thousand pictures of everyone I loved and cared about flared in my head. Friends and family, laughing and crying.

_And __**I**__ can warn __**them, **_I answered, pulling up a few pictures of others; those I now knew to be _his _family, and those he once called friends. Because he once believed himself to be one of them; once upon a time, when he was a child and the world was so innocent…

I laughed aloud, then spoke again, "Oh, look at this!" I said. "'Both of you were born to be kings'?" I quoted, then laughed once more. "How did it feel, when you found out what a load of _bullshit _that really was?"

His eyes were no longer narrowed; they had softened just a touch. There was less anger, less thoughtless rage, and more… agony. He wasn't looking at me; not directly, not anymore. His eyes were on the ground.

"How did it feel?" he asked, his voice very quiet. I was shocked out of my blinding hatred by the fact that 1. I'd only ever heard him sound this vulnerable when he'd been lying to me and 2. I was no longer in pain. He wasn't trying to keep me out anymore.

I kept searching, almost as a reflex, but I was terrified by how quiet he'd gotten. I'd pressed the wrong button. Crossed the wrong line. And either I was about to get everything I ever wanted, and he'd leave me alone, or I was going to die. Painfully. Scratch that; I was _definitely _going to die, and it was going to be _very _painful.

I reached what I'd been trying to find; the very center and source of his pain. What I'd wanted to use against him. But it was as though he _wanted _me to see it, because I was led right to it, the memory open and unblocked, allowing me to see it for a split second…

"How does it feel…?" he repeated, his voice almost inaudible.

Now, I'm sure you've been in arguments before, when you're really in the full swing of insulting someone, and you feel like you'll say or do anything to win the fight. A really _heated _argument too; not one of those sissy ones you have with your best friend because you're bored and there's nothing on TV. It takes a lot for you to admit that you're wrong; and most of the time, you won't even admit it until long after the argument is over and you've all calmed down.

It takes a lot for someone to do a complete 360o , to change their mind on the matter totally and utterly, to apologize and wish that they'd never said the things they did in just a matter of seconds. A lot of fear, in some cases, or a lot of money. But in my case, it was a lot of pain; and not _my _pain, either.

Because the second I was confronted with that memory, I learned _exactly _how it felt.

My eyes went wide, and I swallowed. I was already on my knees, having collapsed there when the pain became too much, but I fell back even further, sitting in the snow. I looked up at him; he was no longer facing me, his eyes on the broken and bloodied skyline. Tears prickled at my eyes, and my hands went to my chest. I actually pulled them back, looking for blood, because I was sure there was a gaping, empty hole in my heart …

I looked back to Loki, my mouth open as I tried to speak. For a moment, I couldn't say anything; the words were clogged in my throat, and the tears spilled at last.

And then I said four words. Four words that I never once imagined I would say to him, four words that I never thought would come from my lips. My voice was trembling and my hands shook violently at my sides.

"Loki…" I breathed. "I'm so sorry…"

Loki didn't turn to me for a long time. But when he did, the hatred in his eyes had returned. He tried to smile, but there was so much malice, so much suppressed misery in the gesture, that it could in no way be called a 'smile'. And yet he tried, and he chuckled a little, the sound so twisted and wretched…

And then he said, "Not yet."

An explosion of ice flared behind my eyes, which rolled to the back of my head, and the world disappeared.

* * *

I woke up exactly one week later in the lab, wearing one of those intensely annoying hospital gowns that wouldn't stay closed in the back.

I will not tell you the dreams that I had during that week; that week in which Loki made good on his promise that I would be sorry; so very sorry. I will not tell you how many times I was forced to see my friends and family die, nor how many ways, and I will not describe the way they screamed to you.

I have my reasons for not telling you these things; firstly, because they are difficult to repeat (though I did write them down as soon as I got my hands on my notebook, so that I would never forget, so that I would always remember what this man did). Second, because in my head, that week lasted far longer, and to describe these dreams would take page after miserable page, and you're not here to get depressed. You're here to listen to my story.

Thirdly and lastly, I will not tell you because what happened in those hideous nightmares is between myself and Loki. A shared, though horrible, secret.

I will, however, tell you that I was shaking when I woke; and sorry, yes. Intensely sorry. But it was not Loki's mental tortures that made me hate what I had done. No, it was the pain he'd felt because of it. I wanted to be a psychiatrist to _help _people; and I'd had the chance of a lifetime, being in someone else's mind. And instead I'd used it against him.

Loki was the bad guy, plain and simple. He needed to be stopped. But after that, he needed to be helped; and I was going to do just that. Beyond any reasonable doubt, I knew I was going to help Loki; if he-or I- didn't die in the inevitable battle. I still hated his guts and wanted to beat him to a pulp every now and then, but the line had been established; and I wasn't going to cross it again. Even if he crossed lines all the time; I wouldn't. This time, I was going to be the better person.

I will also tell you that Steve was _not _dead (shocker!). It was, of course, another hallucination, another thing that Loki wanted me to believe. He wasn't waiting for me when I woke up, but he assured me that he was by my side quite frequently. In fact, most of the Avengers were; even Clint and Natasha checked up on me from time to time, and sometimes spent an hour or so just talking to me, as though I could hear. I did not tell any of them about the depths of my dreams, though I did tell them the cause of this recent lapse and what had happened beforehand, filling in the blanks from the parts of the conversation that Steve had relayed.

The Avengers were all quite relieved to have me back, which was pleasantly surprising. Apparently, despite all of my terrors, my heart rate had never risen above its usual level; but they were still worried about me. In reality, I hadn't expected my heart to race; Loki had wanted to damage me this time, but not unleash the Bubble (there is really _no _awesome way to say that). And what Loki wanted, as he'd made so painfully clear, he got.

Upon my return, Tony blustered about how he'd been at my side daily, how he barely slept, barely ate, and couldn't bear to leave me alone for even a second. He said he'd gone off for a few minutes' sleep when I woke up, that he'd really been at my side the whole time. Clint was quick to tell me that he was full of crap, and had maybe spent a total of one hour by the side of my bed while I was 'gone'. But Banner, who actually _was _in the lab quite frequently, trying to figure out a way to wake me up, later told me that Tony _was _there. A lot. Just… not when anyone was around to see. Banner himself only knew about it because of the edits that were done to his notes when he'd wake up the next morning.

I have never let him hear the end of that one.

Steve was very concerned; and not just for me, but also because of what I'd said. The conversation was very one-sided to him, so he didn't understand what had happened or, more importantly, why I'd told Loki I was 'sorry'. None of the Avengers had liked that; and they had liked it a whole lot less when I told them that I had crossed a line in the things I'd said. I left out some of the details, blurring a bit of the truth to keep Loki's secret pain just that; a _secret. _Clint seemed to guess that I was lying, but once he'd affirmed that the Death Question was still in effect, he didn't ask me about it. I guess he figured that, if I was still willing to die for this cause, then it was highly unlikely I was going to defect from it. He informed me that Natasha was on board and agreed to thank her for me, then left me alone.

Thor still hadn't shown up. And, with Loki occupied by making my brain go crazy, this week had been relatively silent. All except for one thing; my mother.

Tony had given her a load of BS about a trip to Australia, and my mother had _not _taken it well. She was _furious _with me for not calling, for not talking to her in about two weeks and then suddenly going to '_Australia _of all places' without letting her know beforehand. So, with a lot of sympathetic glances in my direction, I took an offered phone and dialed her quickly, shooing the Avengers out of the room and putting her on speaker so I could get out of the ridiculous hospital gown and into something more solid; like pjs. I was seriously loving the pjs these days.

After a few rings, her voice came over the speaker. "Hello?"

"Hey, mom? It's me."

"Natalie!" She exclaimed. "You have some explaining to do, young lady!"

I smiled ruefully. "I know."

"First you decide to switch majors, then you get this 'internship' with Tony Stark, then you _never _visit, and then you go to _Australia _and don't even say a _word _to me? What's in _Australia, _anyway?"

"Science-y stuff." I answered easily, smiling to myself. My mom, the insta-nag. Just add water!

"Don't get sassy with me," She scolded. "I want an honest answer; when will you come _home_?"

The word _home _slammed into my heart like a sledgehammer; I frowned. I _wanted_ to go home. That was _all_ I wanted. Sure, I was getting a bit more comfortable with my life in Stark Tower, but I needed to see my family again, needed to be back at _my_ house with _my _room, _my _books, and _my _mother. But I had a homicidal maniac in my head; and that wasn't something I could get her involved in. I couldn't even _tell _her about it.

I swallowed thickly, looking upwards to blink the moisture out of my eyes. I shook it off. Tears did neither of us any good. "I'm… I'm not, mom. Not for a really long time."

"Oh, _really?_" She asked sharply. "And why _not?_"

"Because… I mean, the workload here is really heavy. Tony's got us working all hours."

"That's funny; because Mr. Stark told _me _that just last night you were watching movies and eating pizza until two in the morning."

I scowled. For a smart guy, Tony was the stupidest SOB I'd ever met in my life. "Well yeah. We took a break; I'd just gotten back from Australia, I mean, come on! We had to party!"

"Don't lie to me, Natalie. I know when you're lying to me." I hoped not. If that was the case, I had a _lot _of explaining to do; and not just about recent events, either. I kept silent.

"If you don't come home, then I'm coming there!" She threatened. I blanched.

"You can't!" I blurted out, before my brain could clarify what I wanted to say. I clamped my hand over my mouth, trying to hold back the stupidity of my words, but-as usual- that didn't happen.

"And why not?" She demanded. Great. She'd be more determined then ever to come now.

"Because… there's some highly sensitive experiments going on," I bluffed. "One more variable in the mix wouldn't be good for them, you know?"

"How is that possible, when you just got back?" She asked. My mother was _way _too suspicious for her own good. "Something like that would take time to set up, wouldn't it?"

"Look, you just _can't _come, ok?" I snapped. But I knew it was futile; my mom was going to come to Stark Tower, and only the might of the NYPD itself would be able to drag her away. But an incident like that might get us back on S.H.I.E.L.D's radar. We had enough to deal with without adding _them _into the mix. I slapped my hand to my forehead. I just got up from a week-long coma; I did _not _need this.

"Look, I'll try and visit you soon, ok?"

"That's not good enough. I need a day."

I glared at the phone, picking it up and miming throwing it against the wall, then crunching the little pieces to dust under my feet. Once my little fit was complete, I ran my hand through my hair and said, in a hopefully-calm voice, "Not everything needs to be scheduled, mom."

"This does."

I took a deep breath. That was my mother; she absolutely _needed _everything to be worked on a schedule, and she always neededto _keep _tothat schedule. And woe to anyone who ever canceled an appointment in their life; it was the 'height of discourtesy' to cancel or reschedule anything.

"Fine," I said slowly. "All right. Let me check my schedule, and I'll get back to you later today. All right?"

She didn't sound too happy, but she agreed. "Very well." I hung up, a pit in my stomach. I felt like cussing Loki out for a few minutes; which I did, because it made me feel a lot better, even though he wasn't _directly _responsible for this problem. No, wait, that was a lie. He was directly responsible for almost every problem in my life right now.

But cussing him out wasn't going to get me very far with what I had planned; and I needed all the help I could get. Feeling incredibly glum and knowing that I was going to pay very dearly for what I was about to do, I walked out of the room. The other Avengers were scattered about in the next room; with Tony blatantly eavesdropping.

"So how are you supposed to visit her?" He asked me. I glared at him; there is no such thing as 'privacy' in Stark Tower.

"I have a plan," I answered breezily. I did not mention that the plan I had was incredibly stupid and I should be smacked in the head with a brick for even thinking it. Hopefully that would knock the stupid right out of me; but as no bricks came at the moment, I stayed standing tall.

"Good luck with that," Tony said, rolling his eyes. I got the impression I was being dismissed; he turned away from me. The two of us needed to have a serious talk, but now really wasn't the time. I looked at the other Avengers; most of them were eyeing me, seeing what I was going to do. I turned away and went to my room, not bothering to say anything. I didn't think they'd go along with this plan, anyway.

I took the elevator to my room, then sat down in one of the chairs. I took a deep, shaking breath; I'd never tried this before, but given my 'new' link with Loki, I figured it was just possible. I focused my thoughts on the whispers in the back of my brain; but instead of looking around like last time, I simply whispered back something of my own.

_Yo. Norse god of crazy. We need to talk._

Yeah. I don't learn.

To be honest, I wasn't sure it was going to work. After a few moments with no response, I sighed and tried again, a little more politely this time.

_Please, Loki?_

There was a silent moment; and then I blinked. When my eyes opened again, Loki was standing in front of me, leaning casually against the wall directly opposite me.

"Good girl," he said, smiling at me. He was smiling again, at least. Even if it was one of those arrogant, irritating smiles, it was better then that murderous rage that had made him throw me into a nightmare for a week. "You're learning."

"Slowly," I said with a shrug, doing my best to keep his words from making me angry. Trying to choke him out was not my best option at this point. Loki gave me that knowing grin of his, that eternal twinkle in his eye… He'd been listening. Like he always listened.

I sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of my nose and closing my eyes so that I wouldn't have to look at his smug face. "Look. You know why I'm here."

"I do," he admitted. "I'm surprised you were brave enough to come."

"Yeah, well, bravery and stupidity are often confused for each other," I retorted. I still couldn't look at him. "What's it gonna take to get you to agree?"

"What makes you think that I ever would?"

I heaved a sigh, looking to him at last. "Because you don't want my mom involved in this; not yet, at least. She's a piece that you're saving for the endgame, am I right?"

His smile grew a touch. "Perhaps."

"That's a yes, then," I said confidently. He didn't contradict me. "Look. This is my mother. She's not involved in any of this superhero, save-and-destroy-the-world crap. She's just… normal. And I'd like to keep her outta the loop, if you know what I'm saying." He tilted his head to the side very slightly. "I'm not asking much. I just want one day. One day away from the crazy. I don't think you'll be that adverse to it; you've got to give a person time to recover just a little if you want them to go really nuts, right? Because then they begin to hope that it's over, right?" I looked at him, trying to convince myself as much as him. He kept smiling at me.

"Perhaps," he said again.

I scowled at him, then smoothed out my face as quick as I could. I had to get on his good side. I had to keep my temper in check. "So what's it going to take?" I tried to keep the bite out of my words. It didn't really work out.

But Loki didn't seem to mind my suppressed hostility. In fact, he seemed rather amused by it; or maybe by how hard I was trying to keep it hidden. I sensed a plan forming in his mind, the whispers in the back of my own becoming more restless. I glared at him.

"And yes," I added, "That _is _out of the question."

He smiled at me again. "Just a thought," he said innocently.

My eyes narrowed, and he chuckled quietly. "When you _do _destroy the Avengers for me, Miss Frost, there will be a little more incentive then this."

I plastered a big, fake grin on my face. "So you've said," I answered. I couldn't resist adding, "_Frequently._"

His eyes met mine, twinkling roguishly. But I shivered; despite how he was still smiling arrogantly, despite how he seemed to be back to his old, normal, annoying self… There was something off in his eyes. He was still angry with me. Furious at what I'd done.

My own eyes softened a touch. "You've already settled your score with me, Loki," I said gently, my hands automatically reaching out towards him. I pulled them back and, unsure of where to put them, I clasped them together behind my back. "How many times do I have to say I'm sorry before you'll hear it?"

He looked away. He seemed a little unsettled by the change in subject, but answered anyway. "It is not a matter of your apologies. You were disrespectful, and you were punished. The matter has been settled, you are correct; and I do not see why you still wish to discuss it."

Hmm. He'd gotten a bit stiffer, more formal. He didn't want to talk about this; at all. "Because you're still mad at me," I said, leaning back in my chair. I studied him for a moment; he hadn't responded. "I really hit deep, didn't I?"

Again, no response. I sighed. I'd apologized for this before; many times. Mostly in dreams, but as Loki was the one manipulating those dreams, he certainly got the message. "I'm sorry," I said again. "But you're not exactly the kindest person yourself, here."

His gaze whipped to me. "I do not have to be _kind _to _you,_" He sneered. Yep. There was the anger again. Always just under the surface, ready to explode. I held my hands up partway, almost in surrender. I couldn't help myself; I wanted to probe deeper into this. I wanted to help him. And yet I knew he couldn't be helped; not yet, at the very least.

Seriously. Psych-crack. If the Avengers were bad, it was nothing compared to their enemies.

The two of us were silent for a long time. Finally, Loki turned away from me. I could still see his eyes in the mirror on the other side of the room, so… cold.

"I have no need for any of your promises. And I have no need of you… for now." He stood a little straighter, more determined. "You have twenty-four hours." I looked up, surprised, and he glanced over his shoulder at me. "You were right. Your mother is not a necessary factor at this time."

I couldn't help the wild grin that spread across my face; but I smothered it in a moment, clearing my throat to seem more 'dignified'. "You swear?"

He looked at me in distaste, as though I was a little kid asking to play peek-a-boo. But, after sighing and rolling his eyes, he nodded.

Now, I'm sure you're thinking: well, _that _means a lot. And I'm sure you're thinking it with a lot of very heavy sarcasm. It was exactly what I would've thought. But here's the thing: ever since I discovered that this little telepathic 'mind-meld' works between _both_ of us, it's become a lot easier to tell when he was lying to me. I can't tell everything, I can't always read his mind, and he _can _keep things hidden from me, but part of my 'plan' included that he _had _to let me make sure. So as he nodded his head, he allowed me a moment to check.

And he was being totally sincere. He vanished a moment later, a blink-and-you'll-miss-it exit (as in, I actually blinked and missed it), so he didn't see my embarrassingly large grin.

Twenty-four hours of normalcy.

Now to see if the Avengers would agree…


	8. Goodbye, Normal!

"No."

"But-"

"_No._"

"Come on!"

"It's not happening, Frost!" Tony snapped. The other Avengers nodded in agreement. I pouted, folding my arms as I glared at them all. They all glared back; and a lot of them looked like they wanted to throw me in Solitary Confinement. Or shoot me. *Cough Cough CLINT AND NATASHA Cough*

They had _not _taken it well when I told them that I'd gone and asked Loki about giving me a 'day off'. They'd taken it even less well when they found out that I believed he'd keep his word. A lot of them looked like I'd gone insane; and, I was sad to say, Steve and Banner were included in this category. There was really _no one _on my side this time.

And while they were glad to know that I was learning to use our 'link' against him, they were not happy with how strong that link had to be if this was the case.

"Look, either I go there, or she comes here!" I threatened; because it was the same threat she'd given me. "And we can tell her to leave all we want; she won't go until you call the _police _on her. If we do that…" I trailed off; I did not need to explain why _that _would be bad.

"It's too much of a risk," Clint said, shaking his head.

"But-"

"You're not going, Pizza Girl." Tony said. I glared at him.

"Oh, so it's so dangerous that I can't leave the house for _one day_, but not dangerous enough for you to kill me if I go too far?" I shouted, then wished I hadn't. I clamped my hands over my mouth. Tony blanched, and Clint buried his face in one hand. Steve looked appalled.

"Wait… what?" he asked, crouching on the edge of his seat, like he was about to stand. "I'm sorry… _what?_"

I felt my face grow hot. "It's nothing," I mumbled, looking away. "But I'm _going._ And none of you are going to _stop me._"

"Wanna bet?" Tony asked, a dangerous gleam in his eye. The others were stiffening, some reaching for weapons. I felt my heart sink. Great. Now I managed to challenge a group of superheroes. I'm smart.

"Hold on, I'm still confused," Steve cut in. "_What _were you saying about being killed?"

"It doesn't _matter!_" I growled. "I have twenty-four hours, you guys! That's _it!_ And if I don't take advantage of them _now, _there's a good chance that I'll never get the chance to do so again! And a _great _chance that I'll never get to see my mom aga-" I stopped talking, again trying to swallow my words. I couldn't shut up; I was just so _angry. _I'd been through too much in the past week; and most of it they knew nothing about.

I looked down and heaved an exasperated sigh. "Please," I asked quietly. "This could be my last chance."

There was silence for a moment. Then Tony said, "Loki is _lying _to you, Nat. That's what he _does. _Why can't you see that?"

"Because he's _not,_" I answered, but a lot of the anger had been drained from my words. I looked up at them all, tears in my eyes. I was getting really _sick _of tears. "He has _no _reason to lie to me right now; and even if he did, he _swore, _and when he did _that, _he let me _check _for _myself. _I've seen his mind, and I…" I choked. Dammit. I took a few deep breaths, closing my eyes. When they opened again, I felt a little more determined.

"I know you think you're protecting me… but you have to realize that you're not the only ones who know about Loki anymore." I took turns meeting each of their gazes, steady as a rock. "And it's possible that I know him better then _any _of you. He's in my friggin' _brain, _for crying out loud." I took another shaky breath and concluded. "And I'm in his. He wasn't lying. I made sure of it."

The others looked dubious, but I could see that I was making a little bit of progress. "I don't care what you have to do to make yourselves feel safer about it; if someone has to go with me, or if we can only stay for an hour or whatnot. But I _have _to go. We don't have another option here. If we don't go, my mother will come _here_, and then Loki has more of a reason than ever to go back on his word; because _all _of the Avengers will be in the same place at the same time, with a big weakness."

There. Something that would appeal to their common sense. My argument was now complete. Everyone was silent for a long moment, while I pleaded silently in my head for them to listen. I knew I was right. I _knew _it. They just… _couldn't _be sure of the same thing. I understood that, of course, but still… I'd been hanging out with them for a _month. _Didn't they _trust _me yet?

After a while, Steve cleared his throat, standing. "I'll go with her," he offered. I was about to thank him profusely, jumping up and down, when he turned his cold gaze to me. "Apparently, we need to talk anyway."

Gulp.

I shivered. "Thanks, Steve," I mumbled, looking down. I couldn't meet his gaze anymore. I hadn't told him about the Death Question; but in fairness, I hadn't really had the chance.

"I'll go, too," Tony said, surprising us all. He shrugged, as though it couldn't possibly matter less, and said, "I'd _love _to meet your mom," in a way that made me shiver. Acting like he was going to be on the lookout for horror stories, and anything he could use as blackmail. I was pretty sure he just wanted to be there to prove himself right, though. After all, if Loki _did _try something, he'd want to be there to stop it… and to gloat later.

I looked to the other Avengers pleadingly. Banner hesitated, then said, "If you're wrong… you'd be risking your mother's life, Natalie." He looked at me, his beautiful eyes on mine. "Are you sure you're willing to do that?"

I looked back at him. There was a sadness in his eyes that was hard to identify. I nodded. "I wouldn't be doing this if I wasn't certain."

He sighed, but nodded back. I felt a huge weight lift off my chest; three Avengers down, two to go. It was like being a kid again; only instead of having to convince one or two parents, I had to convince five. At least these ones listened to me a bit more.

Natasha did _not _look happy, but she sighed and agreed. Clint was studying me intently. I tried to look innocent, but his gaze pierced straight through me, as though searching for any lies and horrors in my heart. But there wasn't a single lie for him to find.

He stood up, picking his bow up from where it leaned on the couch next to him. "If something goes wrong…" He said, flicking out the bow to its full length; it snapped to the ready. "I'll shoot you myself." It wasn't menacing. It was flat. A simple promise.

Trying not to look at Steve as Clint delivered this ultimatum, I swallowed and responded, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Clint nodded and left the room. Everyone was in agreement. No one liked it-myself least of all- but we all agreed.

As everyone dispersed, I went to call my mom. She was thrilled to hear that I was coming today, despite the negative reaction from everyone else, which made me feel a little better. After I hung up, I got dressed and came back down the stairs in half an hour; my usual time to look presentable for the rest of the world. Tony and Steve were both waiting for me; Tony had his portable armor with him, in that silver briefcase disguise that no longer fooled anyone. Steve's clothes looked a little tight, and I suspected that his costume was on underneath; which meant that his shield was somewhere nearby as well. Probably in the car that Tony told us we were taking. I didn't protest the method of travel; in fact, I didn't say anything. The others returned the favor.

Tony decided to drive, with Steve and myself in the back. I wanted to talk to him about what he'd heard in my little outburst, but we couldn't really speak about it with Tony there. And if we did, I had a feeling they would both gang up on me, so I kept my mouth shut.

It didn't take long to get to my old house, and my heart did a little skip when I saw it. Tony was out of the car first, walking towards the front door. Steve followed quickly, but I stayed where I was for a moment, steeling myself. My mom, Iron Man, and Captain America all in the same room. I wasn't looking forward to that.

I got out of the car and caught up to Steve, trailing behind Tony. "Hey… about earlier…" I said, already apologetic.

"We'll talk about it later," he answered, a little darkly. My stomach churned, but I nodded. That wasn't going to be a fun conversation.

Tony knocked on the door, and I heard my mom call something out in rapid Spanish. I tried to grin, but the butterflies in my stomach wouldn't allow it.

I stepped up in front of Tony, so that when my mother opened the door, I was the first person she saw. She babbled almost incoherently about how great it was to see me, how she'd missed me so much, and how it had been horrible being in that 'big empty house all alone'. She threw her arms around me and kept switching languages as she spoke; which was normal to me, but confused Steve a bit; and even Tony, who was not quite as fluent in Spanish as I was.

Once my mother had calmed down enough to notice the strange men on her doorstep, I smiled at her and introduced the two. "Mom, this is Tony Stark, my…" I cleared my throat, "_Boss._"

Tony looked unbearably smug as he shook my mother's hand, a smirk on his face that I really wanted to wipe off. My mother, however, did that for me.

"So _you're _the one who won't let my daughter come home," she scolded. Tony's smile drooped. I, on the other hand, finally managed to smile without it being fake. My mother pointed her finger at Tony. "You have some explaining to do as well," She growled at him, and I snickered.

"And this is Steve Rogers. A work colleague." I added, saving Tony's hide; the Iron Man looked at my mother, bemused, and took a step back, mumbling, "I see where she gets it from," under his breath.

Steve shook my mother's hand politely. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Frost."

She smiled at him genuinely. "And you," she said, then, "Come in, come in!"

The three of us followed, into the intensely-familiar setting of my home. My mother sat us down in the living room- the first room in the house as you entered- and asked if anyone wanted coffee, tea, or anything. Steve refused, but Tony accepted her offer of coffee, and my mother looked at me pointedly. I grinned and rolled my eyes, standing to go and fetch it for him. I didn't mind; my mother's cooking was terrible, and that went double for drinks. She could burn ice cream.

When I came back, they were all engaged in deep conversation about what we did at Stark Tower. Tony had already brought up a great 'fabrication' about nanotechnology and its benefits for humankind.

"Of course, it's only in its prototype stage," Tony said, accepting the drink I handed to him. "It's nothing that'll be out anytime soon."

"It's fascinating stuff, though," I cut in. "So long as it stays in responsible hands," I added with the flattest affect I could manage. Tony cleared his throat and set the mug on the table.

"Yes, well," he defended himself, "The same can be said for any technology."

"Including the Iron Man armor," I countered. I looked to him, and he looked back. "We wouldn't want that in the hands of anyone… _reckless, _now, would we?"

"Of course not," he replied smoothly, "Which is why I've never let you go near it."

I was about to answer when my mother said, "It all sounds rather interesting." She looked to me. "But I've always thought psychology was your favorite subject."

I smiled at her, but a part of me felt black inside as I spoke. "Well, I may have found a new love in science," I lied. Now, most everyone lies to their parents at one point or another; but this wasn't about which guy I was dating or why I was out so late. I wanted to break down right then and there and confess everything; from the nanobots to the Avengers, from the Death Bubble to Loki. But I didn't. I kept my big mouth shut for the first time in my life.

"Uh-huh," My mother answered, her eyes slowly sliding over to Steve. "Would that be your _only _love at Stark Tower?"

I flushed. Way to go, mom. Steve looked pretty uncomfortable, shifting a little under my mother's intense gaze. "Yes, mother," I answered tartly, as her accusing glare went to Tony instead. "Not much else to love in that place."

It was only at that moment that I realized what a lie that was. Oh, I definitely didn't have anything for Tony or Steve, but there were things that I was slowly beginning to love at Stark Tower, despite the craziness of it all. The terror and the annoyance had clouded most of the good things from view; but I liked spending time with Bruce, and Steve was a good friend on occasion. Even Tony could be fun, when we watched TV and took a break from insulting each other and insulted the on-screen characters instead.

I hadn't realized how much I was in mourning for that; that easy life that we'd started to establish in the month before Loki had started to attack me again. Now everyone was mad at me, suspicious of me. And I hated it.

My mother's face softened a touch. "Good," She said firmly, then turned to me, smiling a bit tiredly. "And how was Australia?" She asked, changing the subject.

I shrugged. Since I'd never actually been to Australia in the first place, I bluffed my way through it. "Different. I didn't get to see much outside of labs and stuff." Tony nodded minutely, and I knew that what I'd said fit his story well enough. "And what about you? How's life?"

My mother shrugged. "A little lonely without you here," She admitted. "Do you think you'll come back for your birthday? I can get a cake; maybe we could invite April and her family, have a party!" She looked at Tony and Steve, who were staring at her, a bit dumbfounded. "You can come too, of course."

I blanched, coughing a bit and tracing a line on my neck as subtly as I could, trying to get her to shut up. My mother, however, doesn't understand 'subtlety', because she was still beaming away.

"Natalie has a birthday?" Tony asked stupidly.

I gave an awkward half-laugh, rubbing the back of my neck nervously. "I hadn't really thought about it, actually," I told my mother. "It's just been so busy… I barely know what date it is anymore."

"But you're birthday's in three days!" My mother protested. "How can you _not _know?" A schedule-eccentric mother doesn't get along well with people who don't know what date it is.

I wanted to point that I'd been in a _coma_ for the past week, and was a bit _disoriented, _but I managed to stop myself just in time. "I've had nineteen birthdays before this. The novelty's wearing a bit thin."

"Oh, that doesn't sound like you at _all,_" My mother objected. "You love parties!"

"I don't think _love _is the right term here," I tried to grasp control of the situation, but it was slipping fast. Tony was giving me an evil grin that was scaring me to death.

"Our little Nat is turning twenty?" He asked mockingly, and I blanched even further, glancing to my mother. I saw pain lance through her eyes.

"Ex-nay on the At-nay!" I hissed towards him. Tony just blinked at me. I laughed loudly, trying to cover his mistake. See, this is one of the many reasons why I hate the nickname that Tony Stark has plastered onto me.

"I'm not your little _anything,_ Tony," I said, as cheerfully as I could manage, but there was a lump in my throat that seemed to be keeping the happier parts of my words at bay. My mother scowled at me.

"Natalie!" She scolded. "There's no need to be so rude." I ducked a bit, as though ashamed. Which I wasn't. And we all knew it. "And you should refer to your boss as _Mr. _Stark, do I make myself clear?"

My face felt hot, but I was grateful that the crisis had passed; not only hadn't my mother reacted to the word 'Nat', but we also weren't talking about my upcoming birthday anymore. Unfortunately, due to the direction this conversation had taken, I was afraid that Tony's already enormous head was about to get bigger.

"Yes, mom," I grumbled.

"Now apologize."

I blushed even further, and turned to Tony. Both he and Steve were looking incredibly amused; I couldn't help myself. "I'm sorry you exist, _Mr_. Stark."

"Natalie!"

"All right, all right," I grumbled. "Sorry, Mr. Stark."

"That's better," my mother said, still not looking entirely appeased. "I thought I raised you a little better than that." She shook her head.

Tony wiggled his eyebrows at me. I put my hand on the side of my leg, where my mother couldn't see it, and flipped him the bird. He tried not to laugh, and Steve even smiled a little.

We all got along pretty well after that. My mom started to like Steve a lot more; he was a polite guy, a gentlemen, and she even pulled me aside at one point to tell me that she would approve if I _was _dating him. When I assured her that I wasn't, she pointed out that she would _not _approve if I dated Tony.

"He seems like a bit of a player," She noted.

My mother didn't watch the news much.

A majority of the time was spent in total, crippling embarrassment; highlighted when my mother brought out some baby pictures and Tony laughed for a full five minutes at one where I had a lego shoved up my nose. I smacked him in the arm, and he shoved me out of my chair. My mother took note of our relationship after a while, mentioning that we didn't seem to have the typical boss-employee relationship, and I was quick to agree.

After a few hours of laughing, blushing, and having fun… it was as though all of my worries had disappeared. I was with my mother again, spending time with my family again. But those troubles appeared again later, as troubles always will.

It happened when my mother started talking about a time when we were all happy; a family reunion, back when I was very young, a while after my father left. I was smiling with her, putting in everything I remembered, with clever little punch lines and stories about my stupid little cousins and the things we did. Tony and Steve were both laughing at the way I told the younger ones that the punch was really blood ("Oh, so you were a little terror back then, too?" Tony asked) and how April (an 'honorary' family member) and I spooked them by convincing them that an alien lived in my basement and having her pop out of the darkness with a mask. It was even funnier when their parents got us back by building a full-fledged 'spacecraft' the next year and getting us 'abducted by aliens', who turned out to be my little cousins in the most epic costumes ever (One of their parents was a makeup artist. We were totally fooled).

It was a funny story; a story filled with the mischief of children and the happy times that families have together.

That's why it hurt so badly when Loki stopped watching.

Again, it wasn't my pain.

I hadn't even realized he was there until I felt that cold sensation in my gut; like he'd ripped himself out of my mind for good, when I knew that our link was fairly permanent. I ran over the story in my head, trying to figure out why he'd been upset, and my heart did a flip-flop. Why did I always bleed for this fool?

It was his own fault. He'd been watching. He'd promised me a day of normal; but, I realized, he'd never promised to stay out of my head, to stop watching. Not like I'd expected him to, anyway, but if it hurt so badly, why did he keep listening…?

I thought of another child with a penchant for mischief, having fun with his family… then realizing that his parents were just playing pretend…

Normal meant _normal, _dammit.

I tried to ignore my guilty feelings. I had no reason for them. But the wanna-be psychiatrist part of me was screaming to help him, to talk to him. I pushed the feelings aside as best I could, but for the next hour, they kept resurfacing. Finally, Steve seemed to notice my discomfort, because he mentioned how late it was getting, and how we'd all better go home. My mother, though slightly upset, made me promise to call as she led us to the door.

"Oh, and you never said if you wanted to swing by for your birthday or not," she added, stopping me before I could leave. Eeesh. Just when I thought my luck couldn't get any worse.

"Probably not, mom," I answered, sadly but truthfully. "Like I said. It's almost impossible to get away."

She looked to Tony. "You'll let her have a day off for her birthday, won't you?" She demanded, giving him her famous 'mom stare'. Every mom has one, and every single one is unique; but they all managed to make you feel like crap if you deny them what they want. Sometimes they use guilt, sometimes fear; but they all work out rather nicely for the moms.

Tony shifted uncomfortably in front of her. He gave me a don't-make-me-the-bad-guy-here look, and I shrugged, mouthing, "Better you than me."

"I don't make the deadlines, Mrs. Frost," he answered with a shrug. Then he grinned at me. "But we'll be sure to give her a wicked party."

"No strippers," was the first thing I thought; and of course the first thing that came out of my mouth. My mom looked horrified.

Tony held up his hands. "No strippers," he agreed.

"No booze," I added.

"But-"

"I'm only twenty. No booze."

"Fine," he answered airily, as though it didn't matter, but I could tell he was disappointed. My mother swallowed.

"Yes, none of those things, please,"she said emphatically.

"No _party, _please," I told Tony, who just shrugged; yeah. He was totally going to have a party. I was doomed.

"We probably won't be able to have a party, anyway," I said pointedly. "We've got a lot of _work _to do." I glared at Tony. Surely he realized that if he insisted on having a party, my mother _would _come, invited or not.

He seemed to. "That's true," he said. "We'll get her a gift at least, though." My mother seemed slightly appeased.

"All right." She gave me a hug, then a kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you later, Natalie."

"Yeah," I said, a little distantly. Then, as she turned to the house, I said, "Mom?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

She looked mildly surprised, but she replied, "I love you too, sweetheart," before she went back inside. It had been a while since I'd said it; not because I didn't love her, or didn't want to… it just never really came up in daily conversation.

Tony nudged me with an elbow to the ribs. "Still letting mommy kiss you goodbye, huh?"

"Don't make me hit you," I retorted, but my response was a bit weak. Well, that was it. It was over. It was very likely that I would never see my mother again; even if the good guys _did _win. And those would be the last words I ever said to her; that was suddenly very important to me.

"Hey, guys?" I asked suddenly, as we made it to the car. "Can we stop by April's place before we go back?" They shared a look. "I mean, I've got twenty-four hours. And this could be my last chance…" I trailed off. They did not look willing to agree.

"Don't you think that would be pushing your luck a bit?" Steve asked, but his voice was kind as opposed to threatening. "Loki didn't show up now, but that doesn't mean he still _won't._"

I scanned my brain. The whispers in the back of my head had gone very quiet. Whatever he was thinking, he didn't want me hearing any of it.

_I'm sorry, _I whispered to him, but he didn't respond. I looked up at the others.

"You're probably right," I lied. But it wasn't Loki that I had to worry about 'pushing my luck' with. The two shared another glance as, abnormally complacent, I got into the car.

"I think it's a great idea," Tony lied, getting into the driver's seat. "Let's do that."

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "You just don't want to have to face my wrath for all those times that my mother made me call you 'Mr. Stark' or 'Sir'."

"That…" He started, like he was responding to an accusation, then finished with, "Is true," and started the car. It lurched into the direction of April's house, though, and I smiled.

"Thanks," I said, and he kept his eyes on the road.

"Anything to delay the inevitable," he said casually. I sat back in my seat, and Steve watched me carefully. He didn't say a word against this new plan, so we all assumed he was all right with it. But the pensive look in his eye gave me pause. I wondered what he thought of my newest request; if he thought I was lying to him or something. It seemed ironic to me that the Avengers, who I lied to only on rare occasions, were constantly suspicious of me, when my mother, who I lied to on a second-by-second basis, trusted me completely. Or at least, had no idea what the _real _truth was. What serious bullshit.

We arrived at April's house a while later. I stopped Tony from getting out of the car for a moment.

"By the way, Stark," I said, "She's a fan. So expect much screaming and quite possibly a rib-cracking hug."

"Oh, good," Stark said, straightening a little. "I knew someone had to be a fan; your family and friends can't all be freaks like you."

I smacked him in the back of the head, and we all got out of the car. The three of us headed to the door, and I rang the doorbell, having Stark hide off to the side.

This time, April answered instead of her mother. I wiggled four fingers in a wave. "Hey, crazy."

She grinned and attacked me in a quick hug. "NATALIE!" She screamed, like she hadn't seen me in three years as opposed to a week. She pulled back. "It's been ages! And Stevey!" She attacked him, too; he looked completely uncomfortable with the massively tight hug that she gave him, but I smiled. Still, my heart felt like it was twisted, tied into a thousand intricate knots. April always made me feel better, but today…

Today might be the last time I saw her…

I swallowed these dark thoughts back and stood off to the side. "And I come bearing gifts, because I am awesome like that." I gestured theatrically to Tony, who stepped into the spotlight like a perfect little diva. April's eyes immediately went as wide as dinner plates. Her jaw dropped, and she started gaping, opening and closing her mouth and pointing at him.

"It's… he's… you…" She looked at me, eyes round.

I smiled at her. "Permission to hug has been granted, by the way."

"EEEEEEEEE!" The noise came right from the bottom of her lungs and exploded out of her uncontrollably, and she flung herself at Tony Stark, who stumbled backwards as her arms wrapped around him tightly.

He tried to say something, but she just hugged him tighter. Point for her, having the guts to absolutely lose it like that instead of playing it cool. Tony gasped for air. "Not breathing!" He exclaimed. April didn't seem to care. "Seriously, Pizza Girl, your pet is suffocating me!"

April, still not releasing him, looked back to me sadly. "Do I have to let him go?" She asked in a childlike voice. I shrugged.

"Hey, he owes me. A little oxygen deprivation just might help him repay that."

"YAY!" She squeezed him tighter. I chuckled, and it _was _real… but dread still lingered in my veins. Steve seemed to notice; he placed a hand on my shoulder gently. I leaned my head down onto it to let him know that the gesture was appreciated, but I didn't say anything.

When Steve eventually pointed out that Tony was turning blue and April finally released him, she introduced herself properly and the babbling began. She demanded to know everything about the Iron Man suit, even going so far as to launch into a statement that was so science-y-sounding that Steve and I just looked at her with dumb looks on our faces. Tony looked at me in surprise, his eyes demanding an explanation for how she actually sounded smart.

I grinned at him. "Didn't I tell you? She's into science."

"It's a hobby," She admitted, blushing a little. "I invent things in my spare time; mostly I just draw blueprints, I have no idea if they'd ever work or not, but hey, why not, right? What's the worst that can happen if I just draw them?" She was babbling, and she didn't seem to care. "So how did…" And she repeated her question.

Tony shrugged, then launched into a science-y explanation that was so long and complicated that it made my head hurt. I'd try and write it down, but even with my mad Nerdese skills I could only translate bits of it; and definitely not enough to make sense.

But April seemed to lap it up, her eyes wide as she nodded fiercely. She asked more nerd questions, and Tony looked amazed that she'd understood. The two got into a real long geek-fest after a while, until I finally had the urge to shout, "OK! Enough of that! English now, _please!_"

"Hush, Natalie," Tony cut me off. "Grown-ups are talking."

April punched him in the arm. "Hey! That's _my _friend you're insulting!" She looked to me. "Hush, Natalie," She said firmly. "Grown-ups are talking."

Steve chuckled beside me, and I rolled my eyes, turning to him. "They're gonna be like that for a while." I said, and he nodded.

"I'd gathered."

The two of us fell silent, and the Death Question came back to hover in the air between us. We still hadn't talked. We still needed to. But we were still putting it off; now wasn't the time. It was never the time.

The two of us listened to April and Tony nerd out for a while, standing next to each other in comfortable, yet uncomfortable silence. Finally, April looked satisfied, her eyes alight.

"I've totally got to write some of this down," She said, looking longingly back to the house.

"Well, we only came to say hi," I said, knowing that my time had just been wasted but actually glad that it was; I only had one more time with my best friend, and I wanted her to be happy when that happened. And, to be honest, I wasn't sure what I'd wanted to say to her. I wasn't even sure I could say _anything._

She looked a bit upset, then glanced at the setting sun. "Aw, boo." She said, pouting a little. I smiled at her, and held out my arms for a hug; which she reciprocated without pause.

"I'll miss you, April," I said honestly. My throat felt clogged, my chest tight. No crying. Crying was not allowed.

"I'll miss you too, Natalie," she said, hugging me a bit tighter before letting go. I smiled at her, but it felt hollow and dead. This was my last goodbye; I had to say something better than that. But I couldn't think of anything.

Tony handed April a piece of paper. "Purely platonic," he said as she accepted, opening it. Her eyes shone.

"Your phone number?"

"Platonic," he repeated, glancing at me. "She'd kill me if it was anything else." April looked up at him in awe, and he shrugged. "It'd be good to talk to someone with a larger vocabulary than your average Neanderthal."

"Hey!" I shouted, insulted.

"See?" He said, gesturing to me. "That one only speaks in one-syllable grunts." He shook his head, as though in shame. "Tsk tsk."

"You just wait till I get my hands on you, Stark," I growled.

"And then she resorts to violence."

April grinned. "Thanks!" She squealed, then punched him in the arm. "And again. Please don't insult my friends."

He rolled his eyes but nodded agreeably. "I told you that you were a genius," I said to April. She beamed, and I gave her another quick hug.

"See you soon, right?" She demanded.

I hoped not; if I was right about what was going to happen to me. "Sure," I lied. Then, not wanting my last words to her to be untrue, I added, "Have fun nerding it up with Tony."

She grinned. "Will do!" She said excitably, and waved to us as we walked down the pavement and back to the car. She kept waving as we drove away, and I did the same, waving out of the back window until she became a silhouette. I kept waving as we turned a corner, and she vanished from sight, then sat down in my seat.

Steve was staring at me. "You handled that well," he whispered to me.

"What do you mean?"

He hesitated. "Didn't… something happen when you were with your mother? That's why I suggested we should leave… has Loki been there this whole time?"

I wished. If Loki was there, maybe I wouldn't have felt so guilty about ignoring him. But a day off was a day off; I wasn't going to spend it at work. "Not exactly," I answered. "He was there for a bit, but he left. And he was only ever watching."

That wasn't a lie. It wasn't the whole truth, but it wasn't a lie. The rest of it… I _couldn't _share with Steve. It wasn't my secret to share. It was Loki's secret. His pain.

"I see," Steve said, and didn't question me any further. I scooted up on my seat so that I was closer to Tony, who was in the seat directly in front of me.

"Hey," I said. "Thanks for that whole phone-number thing. She's probably going nuts as we speak."

He kept driving. "She's smart for her age," was all he said, his eyes still on the road. I smiled. So it wasn't all just to be nice. Then again, Tony rarely did things just to 'be nice'.

We drove back to Stark Tower in silence. When we arrived, we piled out, Tony in the lead. But Steve gently took my wrist. "Give us a minute, will you?" He asked Tony. The other man shrugged and went inside. I turned to face Steve, curious. But one look on his face told me everything I wanted to know.

We'd been putting it off all day. It was time we talked.

I swallowed painfully. Steve stuffed his hands into his pocket, his feet shuffling a little in the snow. "So… You said something earlier… about how Stark… wouldn't kill you?"

My stomach twisted in knots. I didn't want to do this now. But then, I'd never want to do this. It was best to just get this over with quickly. Anyone want to chime in with the old Band-Aid metaphor?

Wringing my hands and keeping my eyes on the snowy ground, I nodded. "I… Before my coma. Before that morning on the roof? Back when I had my first nightmare…" I tried to put my thoughts together a bit better; it was difficult. "That nightmare was about you. All of you. The Avengers. And… in that nightmare, Loki tricked me into killing everyone." I still didn't look at him. I was shaking. I had to _do _this.

"And, afterwards… I asked Tony what… what he would do if it ever went that far." I shivered in the cold, pulling my coat tighter around my body. "And… if the fate of the world was at stake, or someone else's life… I asked him if he'd be willing to… to kill me." The last words were almost inaudible.

"And what did he say?" Steve's voice was a monotone, and when I looked up to him, his face was unreadable. I couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"He… he said no." I swallowed, feeling a little shaky. Steve's eyes never left me, but I couldn't look at him, couldn't face him. My boot traced patterns in the snow, and I allowed anger to burn through my sudden exhaustion as I said, "And it really pisse- I mean, _ticked _me off, because… because I _needed _him, you know? I _needed _him to listen, to understand, and he just wouldn't, because…" I was getting into full-on rant mode; but then my eyes met Steve's, and I couldn't go on. The words died in mid-air, died in the cloud that trailed away from my breath.

There was something almost… accusatory in his eyes. And yet, there was so much _pain _there. He hated that I was considering this. He hated _anyone _considering this. Well, I hated it too. I couldn't stand this.

"I wanted to ask you," I blurted out suddenly. My eyes were stinging. "I wanted to ask you, too. I asked Clint and Natasha; they said yes. I… I wanted to ask everyone. I wanted to…" I trailed off again.

Steve's eyes went to the frosted ground. "When?" He asked quietly. "When were you going to _talk_ to meabout this, Natalie?"

I swallowed. "It wasn't like I was hiding it from you," I said, a little bit too softly; I forced myself to speak a little louder. "I just… I never got the chance. It's not… it's not an easy thing to bring up in conversation, you know?" I looked down to the ground as well. My heart had sunk to my toes, and my stomach was doing the tango. I couldn't keep my emotions straight, and I had the worst feeling that I was about to cry.

"No," Steve said after a moment, so quiet that I had to strain to hear. "I suspect it isn't." He stepped a little closer to me. "Natalie… is this what you really want?"

I laughed a little, hysterical. "Hell, no. Who in their right mind would _want _this?" He smiled a little with me, a broken, twisted gesture. I took a deep, shaking breath and went on, "But it's what has to be done; if it comes down to it… then the world can't suffer just for me to live a little longer. We all die eventually, right?"

It was only then that I realized just how true that was. One way or another, whether the Avengers all agreed to kill me or not, I was very likely going to die before all of this was over. Whether they were forced to do it before I destroyed the world, or Loki got what he wanted and the Earth burned… I was probably going to die.

And, strangely, I was ok with that. I was barely even scared. Dying to save the world?

I could live with it.

Rodgers smiled at me very, very sadly. "True," he admitted. He held out his hand, seeming to steel himself a little. "All right, Miss Frost. If there are no other options, no other scenarios, and no other ways out… and I see an opportunity… I will kill you myself." The words seemed painful to him. Like Tony, Steve was 'the good guy'. Killing an innocent repelled him. Unlike Clint and Natasha, who agreed so easily, it was… hard for him. He'd lost too many soldiers; but _he _knew what a hero was. He'd seen a lot of them in his lifetime.

I just didn't know if I could ever fit into the 'hero' category. I shook his hand, and with that accepted his promise. But, before he could pull his hand away, I threw my arms around his shoulders. I couldn't help myself; I wasn't really _scared, _but I still felt so terrible, saying all of these goodbyes in one day… losing everyone I loved…

Yes. This was why Loki didn't need to do anything to me today; there could be nothing worse than what I did to myself.

Steve stiffened in the hug, but eventually wrapped his arms around me. I'm actually pretty big on hugs; living with the Avengers, who were not so big on hugging… it made me a little desperate for some human contact. Hell, most of them wouldn't so much as touch my hand if it weren't for the tests.

I squeezed Steve a little tighter for a second, then broke off; and, of course, I was crying. The tears had finally fallen. I wiped them away quickly. "Thanks," I said. "I needed that."

"Happy to help," he answered, a little awkwardly. He gestured to the door, and, after taking a deep breath, I walked into the halls of Stark Tower once again.


	9. Avengers and PJs

As much as I didn't want to do it, I knew I had to. Loki's 'generosity' covered only one day; after that, there were no promises. That day was almost up; the others would be asleep soon, and while I doubted I could sleep at all, I needed to speak with one of them before they went to bed for the night. As much as my emotions were a wreck at the moment, I knew I might not have another chance.

It was time to ask Bruce the Death Question.

I'd been back at Stark Tower for about three hours now, and he hadn't said a single word about my outburst in front of everyone. I didn't know if he was being kind or if he was ignoring me, but at the moment it didn't matter. All that mattered was that I cleared everything up between us; and got an answer to the question that had plagued me for a while now.

I knew I had to ask him now; Loki had let me ask the others without interference, but I suspected he didn't think of them as much of a threat. If I was indestructible, then there would be nothing _they _could do to stop me. Of course, there was that one weakness-that small hole that allowed air inside- but that moved about; it would be difficult to get a shot at it, even if it was visible to the naked eye.

But Loki knew the Hulk even better then I did- though I didn't really _know _the Hulk. And he knew that the Green Giant would have the best chance out of any of them. It was likely that he would try and stop me from asking Banner; which was why I had to do it _now, _when I had some time away from Loki and his craziness.

I knocked on the glass door of the lab, where he was studiously working. My brain felt like Jell-O, and my heart felt even worse, but I forced myself to smile as he looked up. He waved me inside, and I entered, a gnawing apprehension in my gut.

He smiled at me. "Hello, Natalie."

"Hey, Doc," I responded, jumping up onto my usual hospital bed. My feet immediately started kicking back and forth.

"Seeing as you've already had your blood drawn today, I take it there's another reason you're here," he said calmly, looking up at me. I smiled weakly at him.

"Yeah…Listen… about what I said to Tony earlier…" I rubbed the back of my neck, my eyes on my swaying feet.

"I heard nothing you didn't want me to hear," he answered after a moment. I gave him a grateful smile. Bruce Banner: scientist, green rage monster, and all-around nice guy.

"Yeah, well… I want you to know everything," I admitted. He looked to me, his gaze on mine. He stepped away from the table where he worked, giving me his full attention. He even took his glasses off.

I swallowed and went on, "I… um…" I couldn't say it. I'd said it a million times before, but now I was choking. "I…"

Banner's eyebrows went up. "You asked Tony to kill you if something happened and you lost control."

My eyes popped. He sighed heavily. "And now you're going to ask me the same thing."

I nodded mutely. He leaned back against the wall, sighing quietly. "Well, I can't say I didn't expect this."

Well, I could. I didn't expect this at all. How the _hell _did the doc know what I'd wanted to ask him, if no one told him about it? I mean, what I'd said to Stark earlier was a bit of a giveaway, I'll admit, but still…

Bruce pressed his fingers together thoughtfully, pausing for a moment to think through his words. "Once you realize that you are a danger to the people you care about; or even to people you don't… and that you are completely out of control… it's only inevitable that you reach that conclusion."

Ah. And he would know, wouldn't he? Gamma-Man was experienced in these matters. I looked down, studying my shoes, wiggling my toes inside them.

"I have to warn you that it might not be possible," he added, his eyes very serious as I glanced back up to him. "Now, I can give you any guarantee you'd like; or… the Other Guy can. But it might not work." He gestured to a screen, where some notes probably proved his points if I could have seen them. Or, better yet, if I could have understood them. "We're dealing with a kind of power I've never seen before; to be honest, I'm not sure how Tony did it. You may be stronger even than…" He frowned, his eyes scanning the screen.

I gave him a minute to think, even waiting until he was about to put his glasses back on, then prodded, "Dr. Banner?"

His eyes turned back to me. "Sorry," he said, but he still seemed lost in thought. There was an 'idea spark' in his eyes; something I'd seen on him and Tony both on frequent occasions. He blinked a few times, and the spark faded, but it did not entirely disappear.

"You will try though, won't you?" I asked, bringing him back to Earth, and to the subject at hand. His eyes went to mine, focusing back on me.

"Ah…" He took another moment to consider how to phrase his response, then concluded, "I will do everything within my power to stop you, if the need arises. Even if that means killing you."

Five Avengers asked, none to go. I still had to convince Tony; or, at the very least, talk to him about the prospect, but right now that didn't matter. Bruce was on my side. Bruce was the one I really needed. Despite how hectic and painful this day had been, I was relieved. "_Gracias_," I thanked him. Banner nodded in return and, though he was trying not to be rude, I saw his eyes slide back to the screen. I understood completely; now that the issue was settled, I wanted to run away as fast as my feet could carry me and just collapse in my room.

I stepped back. "I mean it," I said vehemently. "Thank you." I started towards the door. "I'll… I'll see you tomorrow."

He seemed grateful for my departure, though he tried not to show it. "Oh. Yes. See you tomorrow." His eyes went back to the screen, and he pulled his glasses out of his pocket and put them on. His eyes flashed as he studied the words there that I would probably not understand, and I closed the door behind me.

I headed off to my room in silence, replaying the conversation in my head. I guessed I should've seen that. I guessed I should've seen that Bruce would understand completely.

But I also guessed I couldn't see everything.

* * *

I woke up screaming.

Well, _technically, _I woke up with my mouth wide open, my eyes bulging, and the _intent _to scream. But no sound came out.

I hadn't been asleep for long; I'd made the most out of the twenty-four hours Loki gave me, and fell asleep with two of those hours left to go.

Since that, two and a _half _had passed.

I backed away to the top of my bed, curling in a ball and placing my hands over my ears, clawing at them, as though I could rip out the sound that I had never heard. My heart was racing again, adrenaline scorching my veins. My breathing was quick and strained, and I couldn't get enough air.

I closed my eyes tightly. Really? This was what he had to do?

Bastard.

_There's a line I don't cross,_ I snarled at him in my head. _Pay me the same respect._

He didn't even respond. That son of a _bitch_. I cussed him out in my head for a solid two minutes, trying to calm my breathing.

In a week, Loki had shown me nightmares of my mom, April, and the Avengers all dying; as well as some other distant-but-close relations of mine. It was crossing a line, that was true; but there are lines, and there are _lines. _Then there are those closely-guarded secrets that you lock away in the darkest parts of your soul, never speaking about it to anyone; and woe to _anyone _who _dared _to cross _that_ line.

I curled in on myself, hearing my father's screams in my ears one more time. Why was I getting used to seeing the people I loved die, but one image of the person I loathed being killed at my hand… and I completely lost it?

_Why?_ I demanded of Loki, screaming at him. _Why are you doing this? __**Tell me, dammit!**_

Still no response.

I buried my face in my hands, my heart still echoing in my ears. I could feel my pulse throughout my entire body, but it wasn't particularly fast. The world was safe for one more night.

And then, suddenly, agony pierced my heart; I barely stopped the scream as, trying to get away from the pain, I ended up falling backwards and onto the ground. I clamped my teeth on my tongue, so tight that it drew blood, but it kept the tortured screaming inside; I didn't want the Avengers involved in this. And they would be, if I started screaming. JARVIS' cool voice spoke.

"Do you require assistance, Ms. Natalie?"

"No!" I snapped. "Just… _go!_" I growled at the computer, then curled in tightly on myself.

_Why? _Loki's voice finally came into my head; the pain stopped, and I let out all the air I'd been holding in a heavy, relieved sigh. _Because your sympathies had been misplaced; again. You were beginning to doubt me, Miss Frost, to doubt who I am and what I am capable of. _His voice dropped to the smallest whisper. _This is merely a reminder._

And then he was gone. I stayed on the ground, willing myself to calm down again, but the tears were flowing. I had no idea where Loki had gotten _that _idea from (I knew perfectly well how much of an asshole he was) but I thought a great deal came from how I'd been bleeding for him, for his situation, more frequently than usual. After all, I'd actually felt guilty for him for a while there, when there was no blame on _my _shoulders…

"Fine, then!" I screamed out loud. "You don't want my help? That's _fine! _I _won't _help you! But when you get trashed by the Avengers, _don't come crying to me!_"

JARVIS' voice joined my little insanity party. "Miss Natalie, I'm afraid I don't understand what you are asking me to do."

"Oh, shut up," I glared at the ceiling, trying to stare down the machine. The machine with no eyes. Ugh.

I looked up at my bed. My heart still felt like it had been run through with a lance, and my limbs were shaky and weak. There was no way I was getting back onto that bed; so I yanked down the blanket, and one of the pillows. Pulling the former over my shoulders and tucking the latter under my head, I curled up on the floor.

Feeling wretched, exhausted and miserable, I cried myself to sleep.

* * *

Bruce slammed down a friggin' enormous stack of papers onto the table in front of me. "It's Asgardian."

Holding an ice pack to my head with one hand and cradling a coffee mug with the other, I looked painfully up at him. My eyes were gunked up by sleep, the light was way too bright, and my head felt like someone had taken a jackhammer to it. Naturally, I wasn't in the best of moods; and my reaction to his statement clearly showed that. "What the hell are you on about?"

Tony came up to the table where I was trying to eat breakfast (translation: trying unsuccessfully to drown my sorrows in coffee in peace). He slid sideways into a chair across from me. "You're not going to like this, Pizza Girl," he said in a grave tone.

"I don't like anything," I grumbled. "I don't like you, I don't like Loki, and I don't like this place. And I don't like being awake, for that matter." I let my head fall from where it rested on the ice pack, slamming into the table. I didn't bother to lift it again. "OW."

They waited for me to return the ice pack to the back of my head; they were probably exchanging a look and waiting for me to actually sit up again. Seeing as that didn't happen, Bruce went on.

"Your 'bubble'," he explained. "It's not just technology; it's… magic."

I propped my chin up, giving them both a reproachful glare. "You're shitting me."

"Erm… no," Banner responded, seeming very slightly taken aback by my hostility. He gestured to the massive stack of papers that he'd put on the table. "I realized it last night. These things- the nanobots- never made much sense to me. There were too many questions; they were supposed to draw power from the nearest energy source if they ever ran out, but the nearest energy source was you and, even though they should've run out weeks ago… well… you're fine."

"That's debatable," I answered, pressing my forehead to the wooden table again.

Tony cut in. "Things used to happen with the prototypes; things I'd… _forgotten, _until Bruce brought it up last night. Not because it was unimportant…" I heard the frown in his voice. "I think someone _wanted _me to forget. But Banner realized that the energy signatures radiating from you- and the nanobots inside you- were very similar to the energy signatures in Asgardian weaponry. And, by definition, the Asgardians themselves."

I didn't look up at them. This was just fricking brilliant.

"So what are you saying?" I asked, a little dangerously.

Tony took a deep breath. "Basically, when I would stop working on the prototypes, someone else would _start. _The technology was manipulated, reshaped. And when they got into your blood… it's conceivable that something _else _did, too."

"Get to the point, Stark; what does that _mean?_" I looked up at them at last, eyes on fire. My hand gripped the coffee cup so tightly I feared it might shatter. No, wait, scratch that; right then, I wasn't afraid of _anything._ I was too furious to be afraid.

He and Bruce shared another look; clearly, my anger was not going unnoticed. "It means that Loki set this up from the beginning," Bruce answered quietly. "And that you were absolutely right; he _does _want you to lose control. We still don't know why, but this just proves…"

"Proves _what?"_ I cut him off. "Proves that I was right all along? Proves that I might just know what I'm talking about from time to time?" I glowered at them both, the nerds. My head was pounding. My mouth was dry, and my arms and legs felt impossibly stiff. I chugged the last of the coffee, slamming the mug onto the table as I stood up. "What a _shocker_," I sneered, then, mimicking Tony, I added, "'Oh, hey, not only is this tech really dangerous and classified, but it's also freaking _magical _as well.'" I laughed bitterly, acidly, then shook my head and turned away. "I'm going back to bed."

"Natalie…" Bruce tried to stop me. "This is a _good _thing. It means that we're one step closer to figuring out what Loki's plan is. If we figure it out… we may just be able to stop him."

"Isn't that what you want?" Another voice joined the conversation; Clint's. I turned to him, leaning against the doorway on the other side of the room. "To stop Loki?"

My eyes narrowed at the not-so-veiled accusation. "No shit, Sherlock," I growled at him.

"Natalie, we're only trying to help," Bruce said gently, taking my arm, but I wrenched it away from him.

"I know," I said darkly. "Look, I get it, the Avengers are the heroes here, they have to save the day… but right now, I just need a little time to be my own damn hero, ok?" I turned around. "Just… let me think."

I stalked out of the room, but Clint followed me. Because spies don't understand the concept of 'personal space'.

"Natalie," he called, but I kept going. Really, it was all I could do to keep from breaking down right there. I didn't want to think of the ramifications this new discovery could hold; because if the nanobots were Asgardian in origin, then that meant that Loki had been playing a long game with us all; and I did not like where that train of thought led me. In fact, I didn't like any train of thought that led to Loki at the moment. I just wanted to be left _alone._

"Natalie," Clint repeated, not raising his voice. I whirled on my heel-it was barely a conscious decision- so that I was facing him, and my hands curled into fists at my sides. He was regarding me intently, his gaze so piercing and cold…

"What do you want, Bird Man?" I demanded. He frowned.

"What is wrong with you?" He asked me, pulling no punches, wasting no time with subtleties. "You're not… yourself."

"And I'm sure you know me so _well._"

"Fair point," he admitted. "But you're not… like you used to be. Something's changed. I want to know what it is and if it threatens our mission."

I laughed loudly, painfully. "Your _mission?_" I sneered, then laughed again. "Oh, a true little spy, right to the end, aren't you?" I felt like I already had the noose around my neck; it was time to just hang myself and get it over with. "Tell me something, oh great perceiver of all things; when did you notice this _change _in my behavior?"

He frowned, but answered. "Yesterday. After you woke up."

"_Exactly," _I hissed. "Tell me, Secret Agent Man; when Loki first invaded? When he got into your head and twisted your thoughts? When he brought an army to the planet and started to conquer? When you fought that army, fought him off, when you eventually _won?_" Clint was looking at me, unsure of where I was going with this.

"Do you really think that you were the same man coming out of that war as you were going into it?" I asked, looking him in the eye. "Because you'd have to be something pretty damn special if that was the case, let me tell you." I took a few steps towards him. "I just emerged from a week-long war, in which I watched my family and friends die in front of my eyes. In which _I _killed every last one of them." I tilted my head to the side. "And you wonder why I'm _'not like I used to be'?_"

Clint listened to my rant in silence. I tried to stare him down; but staring down a spy is next to impossible. I looked away, my eyes dissecting the carpet. I was stressed out, I'll admit. I just wanted to go to sleep, to process everything I'd just learned. I'd gotten maybe three hours of sleep last night, due to the nightmares and constant whispering in the back of my mind. Loki had been plotting, planning; and when he did that, there was no peace and quiet even in my own head.

And now I found out that these nanobots were really _magic…?_ I didn't use to totally believe in magic, but when it was explained as a different kind of science, hey, I understood. And it's hard not to believe in _that _when you have a 'master of magic' lurking around in your private thoughts.

But that wasn't really the problem. The _problem _was, Loki had been planning this for _ages._ So it was _just _possible that I was _not _a random bystander that got caught up in all this mess. It was possible that Loki hand-picked _me; _why, I'll never know. But the idea scared me for some reason.

And this meant that, not only were the creepy crawlies _harmful_, they had the potential to abracadabra me into non-existence. Clint had once theorized that the nanobots were helping Loki to control me as well as having something he wanted; and now it turned out he might be _right…_?

My head was still pounding. I was aching and miserable and I just… didn't want to talk right now. I didn't want to talk at _all._ I just wanted to _sleep._

"All right," Clint said quietly. I scrambled to think about what he was saying 'all right' _to; _my thoughts were so convoluted and crazy right now. Oh, yes. I 'wasn't like I used to be'. "I understand, Natalie."

I nodded, still not looking up to face his eyes. Already, guilt churned in my gut. I wasn't mad at the Avengers; they were just close by. It was Loki that I wanted to throttle. Not enough to go and cross that line again, but definitely enough that, if he showed his _real _face (and not an illusion) I would know _exactly _what to do.

"Just…" Clint went on. "Be careful."

I swallowed. There was just the touch of a threat in his words. I gave him a solemn, "Okay," and headed to my room.

I stayed there with my mixed feelings of guilt, frustration and anger for the next hour and a half, tossing and turning on my bed despite how utterly exhausted I was. My brain was still spinning; trying to figure out what this whole 'magic bubble of death' thing meant, trying to push aside my guilt about Loki and my fury at him, trying to will away the blame on my shoulders from yelling at Tony and Bruce for seemingly no reason…

My every muscle aching and sore, and my stomach twisting and churning, I'd all but given up on sleep when there was a knock on my door. I groaned.

"JARVIS, who is it?" I asked. JARVIS displayed a hologram of one Natasha Romanov; AKA the Black Widow, AKA the spy who never once talked to me ever. I sat up. This would be interesting.

Why did the interesting things always happen when I was dead tired?

I fell back on my bed. "Come in," I called, waving away the hologram that JARVIS had pulled up for me. Natasha entered; I only then noticed the absolutely huge paper cup in her hand. She handed it over to me with just one word: "Espresso."

I looked at it, my eyebrows shooting up. "Are you trying to keep me awake for a month?"

"If that's what needs to be done," she answered, casually enough. I sat back up and took the drink. It wasn't like I was going to be able to sleep, anyway.

I chugged back a large part of it, drinking more and faster than I usually would just to avoid the conversation. The familiar buzz in my veins didn't kick in just yet, but I didn't really notice. I was just surprised that anyone would get _me _an espresso this big. _Me _especially. I'm bad enough with my daily three cups of coffee. The fact that _Natasha _had been the one to give it to me just made me more suspicious. But at the moment, I didn't really care that she was trying to get me super-hyper. I didn't exactly want to sleep anymore.

"Clint said you were…" She paused, considering her words carefully, then concluded with a bit of a smile, "Having a bad day."

"You could say that," I grumbled, taking another large gulp of espresso. Half of it was gone already. Damn. I'm like the Pac-Man of coffee. I gave her a suspicious sideways glance as she sat down next to me on the bed. "Did he ask you to check up on me, too?"

"The subject came up in conversation," She answered breezily. I grinned. Well, honesty was good. I listened to her voice; she had the barest trace of an accent, maybe. Or maybe that was just how she talked. How would I know? All I knew was that she looked, talked, and probably frickin' _sang _a lot better than me. Yep, jealousy kicking in again.

But the accent interested me. Was that… Russian? Well, 'Romanov' didn't exactly sound like a strictly American name …

"Good to know the Bird Brain is thinking about me," I said, then took another long drink. My stomach felt all sloshy and weird, but, that was the way with me and coffee. I didn't like to leave any behind; I just chugged it down until it was gone and I was doing tap-dances on the ceiling.

"He's concerned for you. We all are," she said, sounding genuine. I snorted.

"He's concerned for the 'mission'. You _all _are," I turned her words against her. My fingernail ran along the cardboard holder on the cup; the one that kept me from singeing my fingers. It was only then that I noticed that my fingernails had been chewed ragged. When the hell did _that _happen? I mean, with all of the stress I'd been through, I wasn't surprised… but still…

Natasha looked at me. She had this intensity in her eyes… her eyes that were way prettier than mine… wow, I was actually starting to hate how beautiful she was. It was totally bitchy of me, but seriously. She had the mad assassin skills, the awesome hair, the gorgeous eyes… and of course, she was one of the Avengers. Thus, she was an equal with all of those other beautiful people… compare that to little, average me with my dumb luck and anger issues…

But it might not have been dumb luck. Loki might have picked _me _in particular… ugh, headache. The espresso was not helping; in fact, I seemed to be getting sleepier as opposed to more awake. Who knew how _that _worked.

Anyway. Natasha was looking at me with an intense gaze. "I don't think you understand your role here, Natalie," she said, and her words were a touch kinder than I'd thought they would be. "You're not just… 'The Civilian' anymore." She looked away. I hid a grin by gluing my lips to the paper mug. So I had a few nicknames of my own, did I? 'Pizza Girl', 'The Civilian'… I wondered what other half-demeaning-half-endearing names the others had for me. I certainly had plenty for each of them. Heck, when Thor came along, I'd probably give him a few, too.

Natasha went on. "You have some valid input; you tell us everything that's happening. You're our only eyes and ears on Loki right now and…" She hesitated. "And you're the only one currently able to fight him."

That caught me by surprise. I set the espresso down, feeling the liquid inside shake and swirl about. Natasha sounded a little irritated about that, and I wondered… "What did he do to you?"

She looked at me, eyebrows lifted in curiosity. I rolled my eyes. "He did _something_. Every time you say his name you get this look in your eye; like you just wanna take the nearest object and put a bullet in it." I turned entirely to face her, falling immediately into 'girl talk' mode; because girl talk with a spy equates to discussing the reasons you hate your mortal enemies.

Natasha didn't respond for a long moment, her eyes looking across the room. "Just… be grateful you can fight him. Because the rest of us _do _know what he's like… and it's killing us, not being able to touch him." She swallowed. "The others may not admit it, but I will."

"You have red in your ledger," I said, then clamped my hands over my mouth. Natasha looked to me, face twisted into… rage? Pain? Something dark. I shook my head quickly, eyes panicked. "That wasn't me!" I protested, waving my hands about frantically. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, that wasn't me!"

Her eyebrows furrowed. "He has control…?"

I shook my head quickly. "No! No, that's the first thing he's said since last night!" But I was cussing him out in my mind; _really?_ He chose _now _to insult the super-spy? What the hell kind of 'genius' was he; I could've been killed!

_Moron, _I growled at him. I heard him chuckling softly, and then my gut turned cold. I sighed in relief.

"He's gone," I said quickly. Natasha gave me a disbelieving look, and I looked back apologetically. "Sorry. Really sorry about that. I don't always know when he's watching."

She didn't respond. After a moment, however, she gestured to the cup, her tone a little softer. "Drink your espresso."

I obeyed, pressing my lips to the cup's lid, gulping back as much as I possibly could. Not much left. I swallowed dryly, despite all of the coffee-on-caffeine that I'd just drunk. I still wasn't feeling any more awake; in fact, if anything, I was getting more tired.

The two of us didn't say anything for a moment. Finally, I asked, "What did he mean? 'Red in your ledger'?"

She looked to me. Her eyes flickered to the drink in my hand as I drained the last few sips. "It doesn't matter right now."

I didn't have the energy to argue with her. But the way she was looking at the espresso… the way my limbs suddenly felt a thousand times heavier than they should… the way the colors in the room started to mesh with each other…

I looked at the paper cup in horror. Wow. I am an idiot. My eyes turned to her, raising the cup just the tiniest inch; I could barely move, and the room was starting to spin. "Did you drug me?"

"You needed to sleep."

"You drugged me."

"You had to drink the whole thing for it to work."

"You drugged me."

"It had to be done."

"You _drugged _me."

She stood as I started to fall backwards. "Good night, Natalie."

"I'll never trust a spy again."

"You may not have a choice."

"Can't even trust the coffee."

"You'll thank me tomorrow."

"Five bucks says you're wrong."

She smiled at me, understanding me despite the way my words were slurring. As my head hit the pillow and the room kept spinning, she stood and walked towards the light. She switched it off, sending me into day lit darkness. In seconds, I was completely and utterly dead to the world.

* * *

Despite the fact that I had called this unofficial 'meeting' of the Avengers, I was the only one who showed up late. That was embarrassing. Grumbling to myself as I walked in, I spotted Natasha near the door. Sighing, I handed her a five-dollar bill; she smirked slyly and pocketed it. The others watched our interaction in bemusement, and I took my place at the front of the room; I had called the meeting, so I was the one orchestrating it. But here's the thing with me and organization; we get along about as well as me and math do. We have the same epic, death-match blood-feud sorta thing going on.

I cleared my throat, trying to think of what I wanted to say, and how I wanted to say it. I was feeling a _lot _better now; no longer so tired or irritable… I guess that would have a lot to do with the drug-induced super-sleep that had kept me out cold and dreamless for nineteen hours straight. To this day I don't know what the hell she put in that thing, but it seemed to keep even Loki at bay. Score one for the Black Widow.

I swallowed and began. "Um… I was a little… upset with everyone yesterday," I said, my toes kicking absentmindedly at the carpet.

"A little?" Tony interjected. I took it without a comeback.

"A lot," I admitted. "And I'm sorry. It wasn't you I was frustrated with; I just kinda took it out on you." I shrugged helplessly. "Ok?"

Bruce smiled at me. "It's all right, Natalie," he said quietly. "We understand."

"Speak for yourself," Tony cut in. "Personally, I'd like to see some groveling first."

"Keep dreaming, Tone," I said, looking away from him and to the rest of the group. "I ain't _that_ sorry." The others smiled a little. I cleared my throat again.

"Now that's out of the way," I went on, "I think we all know the other pressing matter; the fact that this little Death Bubble of mine, besides not having a cool name, is also magical." I did Jazz Hands on the word 'magical'.

"I dunno," Tony said, leaning back. "I kinda like 'Death Bubble'. It has a certain ring to it."

I snorted. "I don't need naming advice from you, 'Iron Man'. What do you do? Fight the evils of wrinkled clothing?"

He scowled at me. "Remember how sorry you were three seconds ago, Pizza Girl."

I looked to the others. "Ignoring Tony's immaturity, I think we should discuss the whole 'magic' thing. See if anyone has any ideas." The others kept watching me as I stood there, and I found myself chewing on my thumbnail. "So… that's all." I shrugged, pulling my fingernail out of my mouth.

The others considered my words. Bruce nodded slowly. "Any thoughts?" he prodded.

I shrugged. "As far as I can tell, all this says is that Loki definitely wants to use the nanobots for something; most likely using the Death Bubble. And that…" I hesitated, then swallowed my fears and finished, "That it's possible that this whole thing wasn't random."

The theory got mixed reactions from the gathered superheroes. Steve looked slightly surprised that I'd come to this conclusion, as did Tony, but Bruce and Natasha both had a knowing look on their faces. Clint was studying me. Like usual. Stupid spy.

"But hey, I'm open to rejections of that idea," I said, laughing nervously. "I mean, you doubt everything else that ever comes out of my mouth, so…"

Tony snorted. A few of the others looked a bit guilty. But no one said a word.

I sighed heavily. "Yeah. That's what I thought." I slouched against the wall. "So what now?"

Again, no response. Everyone looked to each other. Finally, Tony spoke. "We need to step this up. Get these things out of you."

"We?" I inquired, lifting an eyebrow.

"Fine. _I _need to step it up and get these things out of you."

"Actually…" Bruce stood up slowly. Everyone looked to him. He looked extremely uncomfortable, and shot a pitying look in my direction before clearing his throat and saying, "I'm afraid that's not possible."

I felt my heart turn cold as Bruce went on. "Once I knew what I was looking at- that these things were partially Asgardian- I realized that the radiation they're putting out… the background energy that they emit… it has an unfortunate side effect."

Here's a tip. If anyone ever uses the words 'unfortunate side effect' when talking about you? _Run as fast as you can. _

"I have managed to create something that destroys the nanobots… but at a cost. Every time these things were annihilated, the energy that they create, this background energy… it vanished as well."

Tony lifted his eyebrows. "And the problem with this is… what, exactly?"

Bruce shot him a bit of a look-not much of one, but a bit of one- and answered, "Natalie's system… it's come to depend on that energy for survival. It's… like an addiction. A drug. She can no longer live without it."

Silence followed this new announcement. I kept my face blank and emotionless despite the temptation to just start screaming at the top of my lungs for no apparent reason. Bruce wouldn't meet my eyes. I knew he wanted to, I knew he wanted to be kind about this… but he was telling me what someone else must've told _him_ who-knew-how-long-ago.

I was incurable.

I swallowed, coughing a little and looking up to clear the moisture out of my eyes. "Right." I said, then coughed again. "Right," I said once more. "Ok. So… I'm addicted to this energy. And I can't quit cold turkey… why?"

Bruce finally looked to me. "The shock to your system… it would be devastating. And the nanos would be destroyed; you'd have nothing to help repair the damage. You'd last… maybe twenty, thirty minutes."

I ran my hands over my face, taking a few deep breaths. I wanted to just bang my head into a brick wall. Loki had us all going in circles, thinking that this could be cured, then it couldn't, then it could, and now…

"This is such _bullshit,_" I said, giving up and turning to the wall, smacking my forehead into it. _Hard._ "Bullshit!" Smack. "Bullshit!" Smack. "Bullshit!" _SMACK!_

"I'm sorry, Natalie," Bruce said behind me in that ever-cool voice of his. But it was genuine. I could not doubt that he was genuine.

"I'm gonna hurl."

"It was always a possibility, Nat," Even Tony seemed to be trying to cheer me up.

"Being cured was always a possibility, too," I snapped back, not looking at any of them.

"There's nothing to gain from smacking your head against a wall, Natalie," Clint said, a bit harshly.

"_Quit saying my name!_" I screamed at them all, then gave my head one good smack for the road. I was totally dizzy by this point. Everyone shut up for a minute; and when someone _did _try to talk, I held up two fingers, so that they fell silent.

It took me a good four minutes to calm down, still staring at that wall and no one else. But, finally, I managed to get my temper-and my temporary insanity- in check. Keeping my face calm and my general body posture calmer, I looked to them all. They all looked up at me expectantly, like they expected me to seriously wig out and start doing the chicken dance before their eyes.

"Ok," I said, "So. Now that we've taken care of _that, _I don't think we need to waste any more of Bruce's time. Or Tony's, if he ever got off his lazy ass and working on that problem in the first place."

Tony did not object. He later said it was because of the crazy in my eyes.

"I think it'd be best if we all started working on the things that really matter." I swallowed. "First, this." I held up the silver band. "If I'm going to be living with these things for the rest of my life, I need to be able to handle them. To work with them." Everyone seemed incredibly impressed by my amazing keep-it-together skills. Skillz. With a z.

"Nothing that involves the Bubble of Death, obviously, but the other things, because I'm assuming the creepy crawlies do other things. I'm supposed to be able to run faster and crap like that, right? Be more agile or something?"

Tony nodded, his eyes lighting up a little. Well. He was excited to see how his little pet project worked out. I hadn't really been a very willing guinea pig. Boo hoo.

"Second, Loki. Now, I know we're all trying our best here, but we've gotta start thinking of new strategies. New plans. That way, no matter _what _Loki's play is, we'll have an idea to back it up, a plan against his plan." I swallowed. "And I want plans going on _outside _of my knowledge as well, understood? Loki likes to keep a close watch on me and the things I do, so do things that I don't know about. Make plans. Get weapons. Call people. Do whatever the hell you have to, but we are _not _going to let Loki get away with this."

Both Clint's and Natasha's eyebrows had disappeared beneath their hair. I could see a bit of grudging respect in the spies' eyes. Heh. The spies' eyes. I'm mature.

"Third, Thor." The Captain was watching me bemusedly, what with me barking out orders like a proper little soldier. "I get it, we've got no contact with Asgard, no way to know what he's thinking, and what he's doing. So we make some noise. He's got to have an eye on Earth somehow; that's his MO, right? He's big on protecting our world, _right?_ So start lighting some fireworks! Tony, you're big on grand announcements; _start announcing! _Get the bat-signal started up! Something! And he's got a girl here somewhere, right? He's bound to be checking up on _her _more frequently than any of you bozos; get the word to _her!_ Let him know that we're looking!"

I threw up my hands, warming up to my ideas. It felt good to be working again. To be _thinking _again. These days, all I'd been doing was swapping banter with Stark and occasionally cussing out/feeling sorry for Loki. Now I had a plan. Now I would be _moving _again, _doing things _again.

"Four, also Loki." I looked at them all. "But this has to do with _my _expertise." I glanced to Tony. "I know you guys don't want me out of the Tower, and that's fine. But I need someone to get me some serious psych textbooks. I've got research to do." At some inquiring looks, I went on, "Loki has- mostly inadvertently- given me a little bit of information on his past. And of course, I know a lot about the way he thinks. Well now I'm going to fine-tune that knowledge a little. Figure out what he feels, why he feels that way." I gave the Captain a knowing look. "You guys have your weapons, I have mine."

Steve smiled at me and nodded a little. I folded my arms over my chest, effectively ending the conversation. "Any questions?"

"Yeah," Tony said, because he doesn't know how to shut up. "Who died and made you Supreme Overlord of the Universe?"

"You, in about five seconds."

"Touché."

"So what do you want us to do now?" Steve prodded. I could see the glint in his eye, the little smile on his face. He wanted me to keep up this little 'soldier' act. Wanted to see how good of a leader I made. Well, I make a crappy leader, let me tell you. But I was kinda in the swing of things at the moment. "You're the one giving the orders. Follow through with them."

I swallowed. Basically, he was saying to divide the chores. I was _definitely _no good at that. I grew up without brothers and sisters; I never had those fights over who got the 'good' and 'bad' jobs. I never had to 'gauge their skill' or anything. I was just told to 'do this, do that' and I did it. Or else.

I'm not exactly 'leader' material.

But he was right. I had to follow through with this. I bit my lip. I might not always be good with 'gauging skill', but I was good with strengths and weaknesses. It was part of the psychological profile. I took a deep breath, sorting things out in my head.

"Clint, Steve, and Natasha," I said as clearly as I could, not looking at any of them for fear that they would totally resent taking orders from little ol' Civilian Pizza Girl me. "I think you should start thinking of strategies; and going over the old ones. See if you can't make any improvements." To my surprise, they all nodded. I felt a little giddy. Ok. People were listening to me. Hopefully this was a one-time thing, because I was nervous as hell. "Then run them by everyone else; keep a few from me, but run the rest by everyone else."

I looked directly to Clint. "And if you could maybe go through some drills with the rest of the team? I know some of them-_Tony-_ will be adverse to it, but maybe we could give that a go?" Most of my 'orders' were questions. Eesh. My palms were sweating. But Clint nodded; he looked a little amused by my sudden interest in everything that was happening, but he didn't say a word about it. "You too, Steve."

"Sure thing," Steve agreed. This was actually happening. I was on top of the friggin' world.

"Right." I looked to Tony. Bossing him around was a little easier. He wasn't the type to hold secret resentments; he'd just blatantly tell you if he wasn't going to do as you asked. "Tony, I'm going to need you to pick up those psych books for me. You should know which ones I'll need." There. Stroke his ego a little. Just a little. Then shoot him down. "Also, I kinda don't wanna see your smarmy face for the next hour or so. It'll be best for you to get out of here."

He mock-saluted. "Yes, ma'am."

I was still shaking, but I kept my cool. "I'm going to change out of these…" I looked down to my pjs and flushed. "Suddenly humiliating bunny pajamas. Following that, I have to take care of things with a certain medieval nuisance." I knocked on the side of my head. "But after _that. _Bruce?"

His eyes locked on mine. "Yes?"

I held up the silver bracelet. "I want to go over some of these basics with you. I'd do it with Tony, but I don't like him. So I'll work with him once we hit things that you don't know. All right?"

He smiled softly. "Sounds good."

"Great." I swallowed. "As for the matter of Thor… Tony, what do you think you could do, without drawing too much of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s attention?"

Tony smiled not-so-softly. "I have a few ideas."

"Will anyone die?"

"Not this time."

"Good." I clapped my hands together. "Right! I think that covers everything."

No one objected. I smiled stupidly. I had no idea how to end this. "Ok. Get lost."

Yep. That's tact right there.

"And she sticks the landing," Tony mumbled. I made sure to give him a smack on the back of the head as I stalked out, not bothering to tie everything together like I probably should. As I left, though, Steve came up next to me.

"Good job in there," he complimented me.

"Spoken like a true soldier?" I asked dryly. He gave me a smile. I shuddered. "I'm never doing that again."

"You won't have to. But you saw what needed to be done and did it." He stopped walking, so that I had to turn and face him. "Not everyone does that. Not everyone _can _do that."

"I'm not everyone."

"Oh, believe me. I know."

I laughed. "I'll see you on the front lines, Soldier Boy."

"I'll be there, Soldier Girl."

Of all my nicknames, this one had my heart doing little flip-flops the most. My chest swelled with pride. Had Tony called me that, I would've called him 'Toaster Boy' and be done with it. But this was Steve; and Steve _was _a soldier. It was a compliment. And it had me all but skipping as I went to the elevator and up to my room.

I changed into decent clothes. Something warm, considering where I wanted to go; the roof. Always good to talk to people on the roof.

I pulled on some thick black pants, black boots, black shirt, grey sweatshirt. Black jacket over grey sweatshirt. I had absolutely _no _colors, because I was boring like that. I pulled my hair into a ponytail, put on a little makeup… I made it look like I was going out into the real world, even though I knew I wasn't. Just because it felt right. It felt good to get dressed, as though I was actually going to go out and accomplish something for the day. Whether or not I actually _was _still had to be determined.

Once I was ready, I took the elevator to the penthouse. I took a moment to linger in front of the Hulk-plaque, grinning to myself, knowing that Loki was watching. One Avenger, by themselves, had managed to beat this man up. He wasn't so scary without his armies, or secret weapons. He was just some dude with a bit of the crazies, that's all.

I smiled and ran to the stairs, taking them two at a time. It brought my heart rate up a bit, but there wasn't enough adrenaline to get the bots into gear. I burst through the door and into the snow-muffled sunshine, the clouded grey day surrounding and enveloping me. Ah, snow. Gotta love it.

I could feel Loki's questioning thoughts in the back of my head. I was keeping what I wanted to say secret. But he wasn't showing himself, wasn't speaking to me yet. I stared out at the empty space and waited for him to appear.

When he did not, I sighed and spoke, "_For all that they knew, you were safe home/ but you went through hell whenever you were left alone."_

Still no response. "It's from a song," I explained. "'Internal Dialogue.' It's a great song, totally depressing, but great." I kept staring at the empty space, willing him to appear. "And, for some reason, whenever I think about you, that line plays in my head. I'm sure you've heard it from time to time; you're listening to my thoughts, after all."

_It's rather tiresome, actually. _

I smiled. Ok. So he wasn't letting me see him yet. I could deal with that, though I was curious as to why. Why he was barely speaking to me. Why he'd attacked me like he had. Why he wanted me angry at him and why I was going along with it.

"Look, I just want to talk. It'd be easier if I could see you, too." Nothing. "All right. Fine. Then listen. And listen _close._

"The Avengers are together. Your brother might not be here yet, but that doesn't matter. They're getting their act together again, and when you come for us, for _me, _they're going to beat you. Just like last time. One way or another; whether you get pounded by them or I figure out a way to turn your little mind-meld against you. We're going to win. You're one against an army, here."

Still nothing. I didn't _understand _it. "So I'm offering you one chance here. Get back to Asgard, back where you belong. Get out of my head, get out of our lives, just get out. Spare yourself the indignities of defeat-not to mention the crippling pain- and just… _go home._ Whatever the Asgardians did to you, it won't be nearly as bad as what _we'll _do when we get our hands on you. Cause if the Avengers don't take care of you, _I will._ Remember that." I swallowed. "I may not cross lines, Loki, but I'm not going to hold back. You're going to lose."

There was a long, weighted silence. And then he started to laugh. Quietly, at first, but then louder and louder, until the sound echoed so piercingly that I grit my teeth and resisted the urge to cover my ears.

_You continue to disappoint, Miss Frost, with your complete and utter __**ignorance**__._

Ugh, enough of the monologue already. GET ON WITH IT!

_You have no idea… the things I have planned for you…_ I heard him laughing again. _See you on the front lines…_

And then he was gone again. I scowled. Well, I hadn't really thought that would work, anyway. Still, it was worth a shot. I shivered in the cold, my breath misting in front of my face.

"Well, fine," I grumbled. "I don't like you, either." I stuck my tongue out at the open air, then sighed when I realized that I was left talking to myself. I turned back to the Tower and started my journey to the lab. Well, things were going to get interesting…

**A/N: The lyrics that Natalie quoted are from the song 'Internal Dialogue' by Maria Mena; I own nothing. **


	10. Ain't No Party Like a Superhero Party

"You've got to concentrate, Natalie."

"Oh, really? I never would've guessed that, thank you, thank you so much for your expert advice."

Bruce smiled a little, his fingers making minute adjustments to the hidden wiring inside my bracelet. I winced as two of the wires touched each other, sending a spark of pain through my whole system. "Ok, stop doing that now?"

"Sorry," He closed the little access panel, then took a step back. "Try again."

I winced, looking to the small cut on the back of my hand. _Okay, Natalie, _I thought to myself. _**Focus.**_

I tried to clear my head as I flicked my fingers through the sequence on the bracelet. The nanos were programmed to interpret audible commands, and commands given through pushing buttons, but they were also _supposed _to respond to brainwave activity, thought patterns. But, like everything else about them, this was untested; just a prototype.

Still. It would make things easier if I _did _get it to work. I focused on my hand, tapping out a command on the silver band on my wrist. A few seconds later, the cut on my hand slowly, _slowly _began to scab over. It didn't heal completely, but the bleeding stopped. I sighed in relief and a bit of exhaustion. We'd been working with this for a long time; and it took a bit of work for the nanobots to heal something like that, despite this being their original function.

"Good," Bruce commended me. "Now, try it without the bracelet?"

I frowned, but picked up the scalpel. I winced as I tried to force it into my hand enough to break skin, but Bruce took it from me after a moment. I smiled at him a bit weakly, and he smiled apologetically back, re-opening the scabbed over injury.

I took a deep breath. Needles were nothing compared to this. I closed my eyes and concentrated. _Heal. Heal the wound. Come on. _I imagined it closing up, sealing itself, the blood hiding beneath unbroken skin once more. I tried to stick with the same thoughts that I'd had when I was working with the buttons; giving the nanos a pattern to recognize.

I felt a sharp, stabbing pain in my side and winced. My hand remained unhealed. Bruce took a look at the display of commands on the monitor before him; the nanobots reported their activities and orders directly to Stark Tower. Banner tried not to smile too widely.

"Well, according to this, they think they're prepping you for a kidney transplant." I cursed, and he chuckled, nullifying the order. The pain stopped. "This is going to take time," he reassured me gently, tapping a direct order into his computer, notifying the nanobots of the injury on my hand. I sighed as it scabbed over again, the never-ending trickle of blood finally stopping. I wiped crimson off onto the tissue he offered, then tossed it into the trash can.

"I know," I said grumpily. "I just want to show Tony that I'm not totally worthless. I've told him before that his tech is only as good as the person using it; well, now _I'm _the one using it, and his tech is crap. What does that say about me?"

Banner smiled carefully. "That the tech was a prototype and edited by a Norse god?"

"That too." I acknowledged. "But come on. You know how that is; you want people to be impressed by how amazing you are from time to time. When you find out that you're not so amazing after all… It's a mega bummer."

Banner lifted an eyebrow. "You want to impress Tony Stark?" He asked, amused.

I scowled at him. "Don't twist my words, Hulk-Man. You know what I was saying."

"I do," he acknowledged, tidying up his workspace carefully. "I think that's about the best we can do for the day," he switched subjects casually. "And, whether you know it or not, you have made considerable progress." He informed me.

"Yeah, right," I answered, unconvinced. I felt less like the nanobots were being trained and more like they were training me. Every time I did something they didn't like, _Zap!_ Some pain flared up in any one of a bazillion locations on my body. Like a rat in a maze. Bobo the trained monkey.

Dance puppet, dance.

Now that I knew who was really behind these things, I saw his handiwork everywhere. I didn't know if it was real or just in my head, but I could swear that those things were rigged just so Loki could have a laugh at my expense from time to time. I was like cable TV. I wondered if Loki ate popcorn while he watched.

I looked around. "Hey… where is Tony, anyway?"

Bruce glanced up at me from his keyboard. "You sent him to get your books, remember?"

"Well, yeah… but he's Tony. I thought he'd just ignore me and get them off the internet or something."

"Maybe he realized the seriousness of the situation."

There was a long silence as that sank in. Then Banner admitted, "So that's a bit of a stretch. Where do you think he is?"

"No where good, I'm sure." I answered suspiciously. "Even if he did go directly to the bookstore, he should've been back a long time ago."

"He's probably just running late," Bruce replied, trying to be kind, but even he sounded doubtful. "Or thinking of ways to attract Thor's attention."

"Let's hope," I said warily. "See yah later, Doc."

I waved over my shoulder and left.

I later learned _exactly _where Stark was at that moment in time. It was a very, _very _ long conversation between Tony and myself.

But here is what happened:

Tony Stark knocked gently on the door, waiting patiently. He had not gone to get the books I'd asked for; he could easily get those off of the internet, after all. Instead, he'd driven straight here; and sat outside for a good while, thinking things through. That was a rare thing for him, thinking things through; he liked to do things a bit more impulsively. He had a reckless streak, he would admit it.

But this was too delicate for that. He had to plan this carefully. Be cautious.

Finally, he walked up to the porch and rapped his knuckles against the wooden door. It swung open after a moment, and Tony wasted no time; he'd already planned his greeting, down to the letter.

"You cold-hearted, selfish, son of a bitch."

The cold-hearted, selfish, son of a bitch in question lifted one light brown eyebrow. His hair was a similar light brown, his eyes silver-blue, and his skin very, very pale, like he'd never seen the sun a day in his life. His hair was tousled about on his head, with the faintest hint of sideburns trailing in front of his ears. He wore a loose blue polo shirt and black pants, and socks without shoes. A little wooden pendant with a crudely carved smiley face hung from a leather cord around his neck.

"May I come in?" Tony Stark asked of him, smiling brashly. The other man looked at him in bemusement.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

Tony's smile stretched. "Ah. You don't read the news much, either, do you?" The man stared in bewilderment, but Tony didn't seem to notice-or care- about his confusion. He held out a hand. "The name is Tony Stark. Or Iron Man. Or Toaster Man. Take your pick."

"Stark?" the man looked amazed. He may not have recognized the face directly, but everyone knew the name 'Stark'. _Everyone. _ "Erm…" he glanced at Tony's outstretched hand and shook it quickly, jumpily. "My name is…"

"I know full well what your name is, Cameron," Tony answered coolly, swiftly, cutting him off. "I have been researching you. Extensively."

Cameron looked a little unnerved. "You… have?"

Tony gave him a dazzling smile. "Can I step inside?"

Cameron hesitated, looking a little off-balance. But after a moment, he stood a bit firmer. "Maybe you should tell me why you're here, first," his tone grew a touch frostier.

"Fair enough," Tony conceded. "I am a personal friend of a certain Natalie Frost. And I am here on her behalf."

Cameron blanched, swallowing tightly. His fingers subconsciously drifted up to the pendant on his neck. "Is she…?"

"She's fine," Stark answered icily. Cameron nodded and took a step backwards.

"Maybe… maybe you should come inside," he breathed after a moment. Tony kept smiling.

"Maybe I should," He answered diplomatically. As blinding as his grin was, there were shadows in his eyes. His hands clenched at his sides; one of them was clinging to a shining silver briefcase, so tightly that his knuckles were turning white…

Cameron waited for Tony to come inside, then hastily tried to clean up a bit, to organize the slight disarray of his home. The two men didn't say anything for a few moments, other than Cameron suggesting that Tony take a seat. Tony obliged, and eventually the other man sat across from him.

He swallowed, tugging at his collar. "Nat… is she…?"

"Your daughter is fine, Mr. Frost," Tony answered, cutting him off. "At least… physically speaking."

Cameron swallowed a third time, looking away. "She's not my daughter, Mr. Stark. Not anymore."

"Yes. I'd noticed," Tony kept his face calm and smooth. "You signed away full custody in the divorce. Said, quite blatantly, that you 'did not want her'. That you never had." Tony pulled a notepad from his pocket, flipped through the pages, then added, "In fact, you're even quoted as saying that 'she was the main reason you left,' which brings me to my previous sentiment, you cold-hearted, selfish son of a bitch."

He flipped the notepad closed. Cameron studied the carpet.

"Now why does someone who so clearly expressed that he doesn't care for his daughter then go on to ask if she's all right?" Tony inquired, lifting an eyebrow.

Cameron did not reply.

"Don't want to answer? Fine, I have more questions. Like this one; why were you at Natalie's house two weeks ago?"

Again, no response.

"Or what about this one: what do you want from her?"

Still nothing.

"Or maybe this: are you even _sorry _for the hell that you put your daughter through?"

"She's not my daughter," Cameron repeated quietly.

"Oh, _really?_" Tony's hand tightened on the briefcase. His tone was still fairly light. "Then whose daughter _is _she? Because, unless I'm very much mistaken, she has quite a few of _your _features. Your jaw. Your forehead. Your hair. Down to every exact detail. So whose daughter is she, if not yours?"

"Look," Cameron looked to him. "I gave her up. She's not mine anymore."

"Then why are you coming back?"

Cameron's eyes fell back down. "Because…" he swallowed. "Because of him."

Tony fell silent.

Cameron glanced back to him, pleadingly. "You have to understand," he said imploringly. "Natalie… she ruined our relationship. Everything was just fine before she came along. Everything was perfect. But once she was there, it was all over. I thought it would end, I thought it would go away… but it never did. It just got worse.

"And it was all her fault. She would see us fighting… and she'd just watch. She wouldn't say anything, she wouldn't cry, she wouldn't get upset… she'd just watch. And there were times when I saw her, heard the things she'd say…"

Tony noticed a bit of the crazies in the man's eyes as he went on.

"I've always thought that, one day, Natalie would crack. That someday, something would happen. That someone would end up hurt, that someone would die. Her mother did not recognize it, but I knew the truth. I saw her for what she really was.

"And then, a few days ago, a man came to my house. I don't know who he was… but he told me that someone was going to die. That there were people in grave danger because of something that Natalie was going to do."

"And you _believed_ him?" Tony asked, incredulous.

"What else could I do?" Cameron asked, eyes wide. "Natalie is a monster. I could see it in her eyes, even when she was young… she was a killer born. There was nothing I could have done for her; I was lucky to get away when I did… but this man, he was so sincere… he _knew. _I could just tell, he _knew _that Natalie was going to kill someone. A lot of people. And he told me that I had to stop her." He looked down. "But I don't know how…"

There was a long, weighted silence. Finally, Tony spoke up. "This man. He sounded sincere. So obviously he's right." His tone just barely conveyed his disgust. "Ok. Then I'll just have to sound a bit _more_ sincere."

He stood, taking a few slow, measured steps towards Cameron. "I don't care what this man says. In fact, if I'm right- and I'm never wrong- then you don't have to worry about him. Everything he says is a lie, anyway. What you _do_ have to worry about is _me_." He took another step forwards. Cameron's hands began to tremble. "Because if you come near Natalie again? If you let her hear what you thought of her, what you think of her now? If you come within a hundred _feet _of her, then you will be pissing off a lot of very _dangerous _people, _understood?_"

Cameron swallowed a final time and nodded slowly. Tony's eyes narrowed. "Because Natalie Frost has made a lot of very powerful friends since you've been gone. And every last one of us will defend her to our dying breath, if necessary. So I don't want to see your face near her, her home, her school, or _anywhere _that is even _vaguely _associated with her _again._ Is that _clear?_"

Tony's voice was grave; a rare thing for him. But that's how you know he means business; and, fortunately, that fact came through to my father's brain. He stared up at Stark and nodded once, terror-struck.

Stark grinned again. "Good. Glad we've had this talk." He sauntered towards the door. "I'll show myself out!"

* * *

My door was locked. The shades were drawn. My hand hovered over the page carefully, my cheeks red. Just thinking about this made my face go hot, imagining what the others would say if they saw this. Imagining what Loki would think when he inevitably plucked the image from my brain.

But I couldn't help it. The ideas had been raging in my mind for days; I had to draw them out, even if I burned them right afterwards. I'd taken out the camera in my room, then sat down at my desk and started to draw.

The picture before me made my ears turn red. The list of names beside it made me choke. Why was I doing this? One of them was just going to find it, and then I'd have some real problems.

But my hand traveled across the page anyway. Imagining. Re-imagining. Thinking. Re-thinking. I already had three designs and was working on the forth when I had to sit back and stare at it for a while. I felt dorky and off-balance.

Could I really pull off spandex…?

I glanced at the suit design in my sketchbook, then snapped it shut. No. I was being stupid.

Spandex wasn't my thing, after all. Maybe I'd go with something else, something a little sturdier.

No, no _no!_ What was I _thinking?_ I was no superhero! I was the Pizza Girl! The Normal One! That Crazy Chick with the Bubble!

I wasn't… _this!_

Whatever 'this' was.

I groaned and dropped my head to the desk. I just couldn't help myself; every time I thought about dressing up like one of the freaks I hung out with, thought about running around the streets stopping bad guys… my heart just went flying. But I was worthless without the Death bubble, and I couldn't use it, because then Loki would get what he wanted. I was stuck being normal for the rest of my life, hanging around all of these _ab_normal people.

I wasn't an Avenger.

I wasn't one of them.

I never would be.

I curled into a ball. The thought sent rippling pain through my chest. I felt… left out. I'd been a part of the group for a moment that morning, bossing people around, giving orders… but now that was over. I was just… me again. Not Electricia, or Nano-Girl, or any of those other ridiculous names I'd listed. Just Natalie Frost, human. The best title I'd ever have would be the mighty 'one who delivers the cheesy circles of life.'

I glanced to the notepad again, then sighed and flipped through the pages until I found the outfit I'd been working on. I shaded it a bit more, trying to make it look a little better.

"Miss Natalie?"

I jumped. Luckily, I didn't throw anything and shout 'die son of a bitch' this time. I whirled, looking for the source of the sound, when I realized; JARVIS.

"Yeah?"

"You have cut off my visual of this room. I am simply ensuring that you are safe."

"Oh. Yeah." I frowned. "Just… needed a little privacy." I glanced to the camera that I'd covered with one of my socks. Sighing heavily, I pulled it down. "Don't tell Tony about this. But I kind of need your help."

"My help, Miss Natalie?"

"Yeah." I held my sketchbook up to the camera. "Think you can give me a hologram of this as it would look in reality?"

JARVIS paused, likely scanning the object. "Like this, Miss Natalie?"

He was using my name too much again. I scowled, but turned to the holographic projection (I still didn't know how he was able to display those things almost anywhere in the whole Tower). My eyes widened. Wow. He captured it perfectly. JARVIS the artist. Who knew?

"That's perfect, J." I said, a little awestruck. "Um… You think that you could make it proportionate to me?"

JARVIS obliged. "May I ask the purpose of this exercise?"

"Yeah. It's to see if you can keep your big, accented mouth shut and keep something from Tony."

"Anything else?" He sounded rather bored with my quips. Stupid computer.

"It's a personal thing," I answered loftily, then, because I couldn't help it, "A _human _thing."

Ouch. That was mean. I didn't care at that point, though. My eyes were focused on the hologram.

"Thanks, though," I said after a moment, in an attempt to nullify my earlier hostility. Carefully, I stepped up to the projection, placing it between myself and the mirror. With my exact proportions, and with me standing behind it at just the right angle… it looked as though I really was wearing the thing. A spandex suit complete with gloves and boots and everything. It even had a mask, hiding me away from the world, keeping me safe from those who knew who I was…

I swallowed. "JARVIS… can you… maybe… pull up holograms of the Avengers? Full suited?"

He hesitated, then obliged. "Of course, Miss Natalie."

"You know, that joke with my name isn't funny anymore." I closed my eyes. I didn't want to look. I didn't want to see myself standing next to the other Avengers, looking pathetic. But I had to. I had to see what it would look like…

I opened my eyes and gasped. The Avengers were standing behind me, looking fairly relaxed, all suited up and ready to kick some ass. And there I was; also suited. Also ready. Also powerful.

The people in the mirror… they weren't the people I'd been spending time with. There was no Tony Stark, no Clint Barton, no Natasha Romanov. There was no Steve Rodgers, and there sure as hell was no Bruce Banner. In their place, stronger, more powerful versions of them stood.

Iron Man, Hawkeye, the Black Widow, Captain America, the Hulk. Legends and heroes. Soldiers and spies. All standing tall and strong. Deadly and powerful.

When I looked back to my own reflection, I expected to see myself as I was; a pathetic college student playing dress-up. Instead, I saw someone else. Someone entirely different.

Natalie Frost was no where to be found in that picture. There were only the heroes. The Legends. I no longer existed; I was swamped by all of the power that surrounded me. And yet, my masked counterpart stood within them, triumphant. Tall. Unyielding.

A single tear rolled out from behind the illusion's mask, and it was shattered.

"Take it down, JARVIS," I breathed. The images faded and flickered. "And not a word to anyone, understood?"

"Of course," he answered, and his tone was just a shade more sympathetic. So the Tin Man had a heart after all.

I pushed all thoughts of JARVIS aside and went to my notebook. Carefully, I tore out the sketches, then slowly ripped them in half. Then in quarters. Eighths. Sixteenths. And on, until I lost count entirely and was left with a handful of confetti. I let it trail off into the garbage, then turned to the mirror. A very human Natalie Frost stared back at me.

I took a few steps towards her, looking her in the eye. "You are not an Avenger," I whispered to her. "So get over it."

She nodded curtly, and I exited the room.

* * *

I woke up the next morning to the sound of… nothing.

I glanced to the clock. The Avengers had let me sleep in; it was ten o'clock already. I sat up, yawning and stretching out. It was a bit_ too _quiet, to be honest, but the Tower was a big place. That wasn't so unusual.

Me sleeping in was a bit strange, though. Tony and Banner, being mad scientists- or, in one case, a scientist who avoided being mad at all costs- kept weird hours and had been known to wake up at six or sleep in until two. They usually left me alone. Steve didn't sleep much, so he'd sometimes wake me up a bit early. Natasha and Clint don't believe in sleeping after four in the morning, and they'd get me up at insane hours and scowl at me when I threw a book at them. Well, it's not like they hadn't been warned.

I pulled on a random black tank top and jeans, once again out of my pjs. I was determined to never be orchestrating a meeting in bunny pajamas again. The sleepwear had to go.

Once finished getting dressed, I pulled my hair into a ponytail and skipped to the elevator, going down. I couldn't hear anyone, but again, that wasn't so unusual. I checked their typical spots; first to the lab. Banner wasn't there. Ok. He liked to eat sometimes. And sleep in. Not unusual.

Steve wasn't by the radio, or in his usual gym. Not so uncommon.

Tony wasn't anywhere near his lab, or one of his armors. Ok. Now I was getting worried. I checked the other gyms; no sign of Clint or Natasha. No one in the TV rooms, no one in their rooms (at least, they didn't answer when I knocked) no one… anywhere.

I frowned. "JARVIS? Where is everyone?"

There was a beep. "In the Penthouse. They mentioned a meeting."

"Oh," I sighed in relief. "Hey, they listened!" I beamed. Yes, I was feeling a little left out from their super-secret meeting; but it was important that they had meetings like that. Where my prying ears could not hear. And, more importantly, where Loki's prying ears couldn't hear.

I skipped off to the kitchen, raiding the fridge like usual. Tony needed to do some shopping; there was practically nothing inside. I settled for making a PB&J and headed off to a TV room. I reverted to childhood for half and hour, watching some stupid cartoon for no real reason, wondering if the 'mindless drivel' would annoy Loki. I hoped so.

I hadn't heard from the little pain in my backside in a while now; since yesterday morning, when I had initiated the conversation. Everything he'd said was so blunt and harsh. Eesh. He needed to lighten up a little.

I leaned my head back, closing my eyes and letting the chatter of the cartoon characters drone on in my ears. The sounds erased all thought from my head, giving me time to just go vegetable…

"Miss Natalie?"

"Hmm…?" I asked.

"Mr. Stark and the other Avengers have requested to see you," JARVIS informed me coolly. I opened my eyes, watching the fan for a moment.

"Tell them I'll be up in two seconds," I answered, walking to the elevator.

"The probability of you reaching them in that amount of time-" JARVIS started, but I cut him off.

"Just do it, Robo-Nuisance."

Man. I even give the AI nicknames.

I pressed a button, and the elevator shot up towards the penthouse. It arrived a few moments later with a quiet _ding! _I stepped out; the whole room was dark. I frowned. Weird.

I looked around; it was absolutely silent in here. And then I heard someone whisper by my side, "Tony made us do it."

I jumped into the air; but it was even worse when someone scolded, "Rodgers!" in a hiss.

"The hell…?" I looked around. Suddenly, the lights blared into my face, throwing me off balance as I stumbled back a bit. I almost fell flat on my back, because I'm clumsy like that, but someone caught me before I hit. I flushed; sheesh, it was probably one of the spies, that wasn't going to get me in their good books…

I looked up. Steve smiled down at me, helping me back to my feet as everyone suddenly materialized, shouting, "Surprise!" Confetti rained from the ceiling, and I finally noticed the ridiculous hat that Steve was wearing. I groaned aloud as Tony popped out from behind the table, and Natasha and Clint materialized from the shadows, blank, apathetic looks on their faces despite the confetti drifting all around them.

I slapped my hand to my face. "Are you _serious_?" I demanded, peeking at Stark through my fingers. He grinned.

"Happy birthday, Natalie!" Was his only response.

He _was _serious. My eyes went wide, and I slumped. Great. Just great. This was bound to be a whole mess of awkward.

"Come on, Nat, it'll be fun." He said, slinging an arm around my shoulders. "Look! We even have your favorite food!" He steered me towards a table, where about six pizzas were stacked on top of each other.

"You _will _regret this, Stark," I growled.

"Come on, there are presents!" He gestured to a small stack of cards and boxes in the corner of the room. "No one knew what to get you though. You're hard to shop for."

"Not really," I answered. "If you bothered to ask me."

"That would've spoiled the surprise, wouldn't it?"

"I hate you so much."

He just grinned and flashed a thumbs-up to the other Avengers. "She loves it!"

The others mostly rolled their eyes. Banner shot me a sympathetic look and Steve hid a smile. The two spies looked rather bored. My eyes shot skyward, but I relaxed a bit.

"All right!" I shouted, clapping my hands together. "Let's get this party started!"

* * *

It wasn't all bad. My mom was right; I do like parties. On occasion. When they're not thrown by super-freaks. But Tony knew how to arrange a good party, even if the only guests had little to no sense of humor. Pretty soon, I was laughing it up with the Avengers, poking fun, eating cake, and rejecting every bottle of alcohol that Tony pushed my way. Scratch that; rejecting every bottle of _anything _that Tony pushed my way, in fear that he'd spiked it.

The spies seemed almost annoyed at first, but eventually they relaxed a little. Not enough that they would be considered party animals, but a little. Enough to laugh a bit.

Banner tried to hover in the back of the room for the whole party, but Tony and I would not have it. We got him involved quickly-though he warned us that it would not be a good idea for him to drink. Tony, of course, immediately started pushing whiskey bottles his way.

Steve got a bit involved. He drank a bit, too, but it didn't seem to actually do anything. I wondered if he could even get drunk. I wondered if anyone but Tony could; seeing as he was the only one currently doing so.

We all talked, we all laughed, we all agreed that we hated Tony Stark and decided to throw him out the window. We probably would have done so, if Stark hadn't reminded us that his armor could catch him before he hit the ground. Spoilsport.

There was cake, with twenty candles that I blew out without breaking a sweat. Tony joked that he 'always knew I was full of hot air,' and I punched him in the shoulder.

There was ice cream. There were balloons. There was even a piñata.

"What am I, five?" I asked, as the object dangled from the ceiling. But then I saw the picture of Tony's face plastered on it and grinned. "Never mind. I can handle this."

"It was supposed to be Loki," Tony pointed out, a little miffed. Clint whistled innocently.

"Just give me the baseball bat!" I cackled, scaring Tony a little. He backed away. Steve tied the blindfold around my eyes, and I felt the bat being pressed into my hands. Someone spun me around a few times, but I could see absolutely nothing. The Cap sure knew how to tie a blindfold.

"And… go!" Tony said beside me, albeit a fair distance away. I swung wildly.

The piñata didn't last long. After my turn (where I got a few great hits in and broke open a small section; not enough for candy to spill out, but still) Tony stepped up. He barely tapped it.

"It feels wrong to mangle something that beautiful," He said as he handed the bat to Steve.

"Keep telling yourself that." I answered. "You just missed."

He scowled, and Natasha tied Steve's blindfold. He whacked the thing so hard that the rope snapped, and it went flying across the room. Incredibly, the thing did _not _split in half, though quite a few candy pieces spilled out onto the floor. I stared at it, wild-eyed, as they hung it back up.

"What did you use to make this thing?" I asked, amazed. "_Cement?_"

"You're at a superhero party now, Nat," Tony winked. Could _nothing _be normal around these people?

Natasha and Clint refused to join in, but I pushed Natasha forwards while Tony blindfolded her, quite possibly risking life and limb as we did so. We did the same to Clint once her turn was over, with Steve keeping an eye on the door to make sure he didn't make a run for it while Natasha's turn was up.

Natasha smacked the thing _hard, _never missing once. We stopped her when she pulled out a knife and almost slashed the thing open, then forced Clint up next. He didn't complain as badly; any excuse to smack Tony's face, I was sure.

He whacked the piñata a few times; like Natasha, he never missed _once. _Damn superheroes.

Then it was Banner's turn. We all stepped back, but his physical strength didn't exactly match his green counterpart's. Still, we hoped he didn't get himself too excited or angry at the thing; luckily, he didn't. He tapped it a few times, but no where nearly as bad as the others had.

My turn came up again; I was amazed that I had another chance. The thing looked seriously beat up. But I managed to get a few smacks in. Tony hit it once-a good hit this time- and then Steve stepped up again. After that, it was over; the piñata didn't smash into the wall again, but it cracked open, spilling its candy guts all over the place. I attacked it like a regular five-year-old, while Tony stood back, watching his face bleed candy and shouting, "The horror!"

We ended up splitting the candy between anyone who wanted it, anyway. Which meant that I got most of it. What can I say? I love candy almost as much as I love coffee.

Presents came afterwards, since there didn't really seem to be any order in this mayhem we called a party, and we were just doing whatever occurred to us next. Things settled down a bit as I sat in the corner, ripping open packages with bright colored paper. Or, in Natasha's and Clint's case, cardboard boxes with no paper at all.

From Tony: A bottle of whiskey that I almost threw at him. And, much more impressively, a laptop. Rich bastard. I didn't look a gift horse in the mouth though, and I kept it right next to me for the rest of the day.

From Steve: a small set of books, all written in Spanish. The man pays attention. He also got me one in Danish, for a bit of practice.

From Bruce: a few texts on not only psychology, but Norse mythology as well. As much as it reminded me about the reality of my world, I was actually pretty grateful. Tony still hadn't gotten the books I'd asked for, and it would be good to get a bit of a start on this. And with the mythology books as a bit of a reference guide… My brain started buzzing again, and I almost ignored the party entirely until Tony cleared his throat.

Clint's and Natasha's gifts were a bit controversial. A gun and a knife, respectively. I stared at the weapons as though they'd dropped from outer space while Tony looked to the spies. "Honestly?" He asked.

Natasha shrugged. "How else is she going to defend herself?"

She had a point there. But looking at the things… I shivered a little. I glanced up to Clint, who placed a hand on my shoulder. It was, perhaps, the most affectionate gesture he'd ever used towards me.

"We'll help you learn how to use them," he assured me, then released my shoulder. I looked down at the cold metal weapons, which didn't seem to be getting any warmer in my hands. I set them down, shaking a little.

"Thanks, guys," I said, trying to mean it and finding myself actually succeeding. They were right. I needed something else. Something that I could rely on, besides my indestructible side. I couldn't become indestructible, not if Loki wanted me to.

All and all, the party balanced itself into a pretty good time. Tony eventually got dead drunk, which was actually pretty hilarious so long as we could keep him away from the armor. Which we did fairly easily. We ended up having to put him in his room and wondering aloud whose party this was, anyway. I ate enough pizza to make myself sick, and eventually we all dispersed, all of us agreeing that it wasn't as horrible as we'd thought it would be, if nothing else.

When I finally left the party, I wandered about aimlessly for a while. I stashed my presents in my room; I wanted to open my brand new laptop right now, but knowing Tony there were probably a bunch of security bits set up already, and I didn't want to risk being locked out of it forever because I didn't know whatever password he'd set. I also wanted to read the new books, do a bit of studying… but right now I was in such a 'party' mood that I just couldn't bring myself back to work.

I decided to check the mail; there was a slot by the door and a locked box for packages. I flicked through both until I found a package and a letter with my name on it. My mother had been forwarding my mail here, though I rarely got anything. But today was my birthday, after all.

The package was from my mother; I grinned and opened it. Another book. One I'd been eyeing for quite some time, one I'd discussed with her when I was at her house. I smiled and tucked it under my arm, but my smile drooped after a moment. 'Her' house. That's what I'd thought. Not 'my' house, not anymore. My one and only home right now was Stark Tower; and that wasn't even a proper home. Once I was used to the nanobots, once Loki was out of my head… once this whole thing was over, I would probably be kicked out of the Tower for good. Told to go back to my normal life. I didn't belong here, after all.

But did I even belong back in my old life? I almost couldn't stand the thought. After all this… going back to college, to living with my mother, to delivering pizzas…

Things would change, undoubtedly. I would be stronger. Faster. Better. I couldn't ever get angry; I'd end up exploding on people, with an indestructible bubble wiping out anyone within so many feet of me. I'd have to keep all of this a secret for the rest of my life; I wouldn't be able to talk about it with anyone. Not even the Avengers.

Because… even if I _did _keep in contact with them… we'd drop out of it eventually. The life of a superhero is a hectic one; they wouldn't have time for me. The spies would have their missions; if they ever even bothered to contact me in the first place. I doubted it. These were people I never would have talked to if it weren't for my current situation. People I never would have learned to like, people I would never have been friends with. The thought made me feel cold inside. I almost took comfort in the fact that I would probably die before this whole thing was over. Almost.

Pushing these thoughts aside, I glanced to the letter. It had my name on the front, and Stark Tower's postal address, but there was no return address. I frowned and opened it; it was a bit thicker than a normal letter, so there was obviously something else inside. I tipped it out into my hand, and something small and wooden fell into my palm.

I held it up to get a closer look at it. It was a smiley face, crudely carved into a semi-round, semi-flat piece of wood. At first, I didn't recognize it, but then my fingers ran over a familiar bump in the carving…

My eyes went wide. No. Just… _no_. I flipped it over, and my heart sank down to the basement of Stark Tower. My stomach turned inside out, my heart pounding. I felt like I was going to barf.

On the other side, scratched in shaky letters on the wood, was an I, a U, and a little heart in between. My mouth went dry. My throat closed. My hands started to tremble, making the little letters blur in my vision. Letters carved with seven-year-old hands, a thankless and careful task done with such small fingers… fingers that got cut once or twice, as evidenced by the little bloodstain in the upper right of the uneven circle…

I looked to the envelope quickly, digging inside. There was a single piece of paper in there, and I pulled it out so quickly that it almost ripped in half. Two lines of text in familiar handwriting stared up at me. It took me three tries before I could steady my hands enough to read it.

_Happy birthday, my dear, dear Nat. _

_I'll see you soon._

The words blurred again. What little doubt I had was swept away by that nickname; the one that only two people in the whole world still used. Sweat started beading on my palms. I shoved the page into my pocket, and the little wood pendant, then ran to the elevator.

As I jammed my finger into the button, I had no idea what I was thinking. What I was feeling. My gut was twisting in a thousand knots, my heart speeding at a million miles per hour. I tried to keep calm, but my brain was spinning out of my control. The doors pinged open and I threw myself out of the elevator, into the hallway, and into my room. I locked the door, racing to my bed, and pulled the gun out from where I'd stashed it. I loaded it quickly, inexpertly, and held it tight.

Still shaking, I looked to the door, and aimed my weapon towards it, arms locked into place as I sat there, frozen, rigid.

No.

He couldn't be back.

_Please._

* * *

It was one o'clock in the morning when I was finally brave enough to leave my room. But it wasn't exactly for the boldest of reasons.

I knocked on the door; softly at first, then a bit louder. Everyone-save Banner- was asleep; but it wasn't Banner that I needed to talk to. I knocked again. And again.

"Just a second," I heard from inside, just as I was about to knock one more time. It was followed by the sound of a number of locks being opened, then the door swung inwards. Clint stepped out, his hair a little ruffled and wearing solid black pjs, with pants that came down to his ankles and sleeves that came down to his wrists. The light in his eyes, however, was very clear despite the other signs of sleep. And he was clutching his bow in one hand. Once a spy, always a spy.

"Natalie?" He asked, frowning a little at me. "What's wrong?"

I tried to speak. To open my mouth, even. But I just stayed there, staring dumbly at him. For a long moment, we both just looked at each other, staring in the silence.

And then I held out my hand; the one that was still clutching the gun so tightly my knuckles were white. He eyed me carefully as slowly, _slowly, _I pried my fingers off of it, until it was simply resting in my palm. Clint's eyebrows furrowed, and he reached out to take it. He lifted it off of my hand, holding it in his own, his forehead creasing as he realized that the metal was warm.

"Teach me," I said, trying to keep the pleading from my voice. His eyes locked on mine, and I swallowed dryly. "You said you'd show me how to use it, so show me."

He seemed… confused. And calculating; he was trying to figure it out, trying to see what was going on in my brain. Finally, however, he nodded. "All right. First thing tomorrow. Ok?"

I shook my head. "Now. Please."

His eyebrow lifted. "Natalie, it's one o'clock in the morning."

_"Please."_

Clint watched me. I could only imagine how I looked; weak. Pathetic. And ever-so-desperate. All I could think in that moment was how I wanted to be able to fight, how I _needed_ to be able to fight back. Having a gun wasn't enough; I had to know how to shoot it. How to _hit _someone.

I wondered what he thought of my sudden need to learn this. He probably attributed it to Loki; after all, Loki had been driving me crazy for a very long time now. He set his bow aside and came out into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

"All right," He agreed. "Who needs sleep?"

I let out a sigh of relief as he handed the weapon back to me. "Thank you," I said, feeling a bit small. He nodded curtly.

The two of us headed to Tony's testing room; where he designed his armor, made modifications, and, naturally, tested the weapons systems. The ones that _could _be tested inside, of course. Clint set up a target at the other side of the room and handed me a pair of thick headphones, and some safety goggles. I put them both on, and he did the same.

The rest of the night was a blur of advice, tips, and the inner workings on my new weapon. I couldn't _believe _how loud that thing was, but after a while, I actually started to take some comfort in the sound. It made me feel safer. More secure.

After the first few hours, my aim started getting better. We switched around the different aspects of training to keep us both from getting bored; there was shooting, of course, but I also learned how to reload the thing in nothing flat. Dismantling, reassembling, dismantling again. Reassembling, then firing directly afterwards.

I don't know how long Clint stayed up with me, just going through the basics with a rookie. But I do know that I would never forget it. And I know that, when the two of us finally shuffled off to our respective rooms, I was able to set the gun aside, unloaded and away in my drawer, and go to sleep with no problems whatsoever, completely dreamless.

When I woke up the next morning, I still felt dead tired. I also felt guilty for keeping Clint awake with me; he'd probably gotten even less sleep than I had. But when I found him in one of the living rooms with a book, I felt a lot better; he looked fine.

He looked up at me. "Feeling better?" He asked casually. I nodded.

"Thanks," I said. Then, "And… sorry about that."

He shrugged and looked back to his book. "We've all got those days."

I smiled gently, suddenly curious as to what day in his past he was thinking of. But I let it slide.

There was a long silence. Then, Clint asked, "So what was that about, anyway?"

I shuffled on my feet for a second. "Oh, you know… dreams and crap. Loki likes to do that." It was a lie. But I couldn't tell him the truth.

His eyes grew dark. "It wasn't Loki."

"I'm sorry?"

He sighed and set his book down, leaving it open to save his page. "Your greatest fear with Loki is that he'll turn you into a monster. If this was about _Loki_, you wouldn't have made yourself into a better weapon that he could use. This was something entirely different."

Wow. He was good.

He sat back a bit, relaxing just a touch. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, Natalie. But do us both a favor and don't lie to me." His eyes met mine. "And remember. Anything that threatens you, threatens the Avengers."

That wasn't true. The Avengers- most of them- weren't human. My father _was_.

"Yeah, well," I answered, shrugging. "Everyone has a past." At his very meaningful look, I added, "A person's past can be dangerous; but never more dangerous than to the person themselves. I think you know that. Maybe better than anyone."

He held my gaze for a long moment, then nodded and picked up his book. "Good answer," he admitted.

I smiled a little, warily, then turned to leave.

"And nice job," he added. "For a rookie."

I grinned and left the room.


	11. Lightning Strikes Twice

Three days passed without much incident. I started reading the books I'd been given; both from Steve and Banner. It would not be uncommon for one of the Avengers to enter a room and find my sprawled out on the floor, lying on my stomach, my elbows propping up my head, chin in my hands as I studied the thick tomes. The laptop Tony had given me (which _did _have some security things that I had to ask him about) would usually be sitting directly next to me, playing one song or another, the internet readily accessible for anything that I might possibly need to figure out. Sometimes, I would be sounding out some crazy-sounding Danish syllables, trying to read through the book that I'd gotten from Steve, and I'd freeze when I realized there was someone else in the room.

But I also started training regularly with Clint and/or Natasha. The two of them gave me some tips on the weapons that they'd given me; Natasha even had me sparring with her, learning a bit of hand-to-hand combat. After all, I had the gun for long distance; the knife would be for enemies that were a bit closer. They also taught me a little about throwing knives, but my aim totally sucked. I was a better shot with the gun.

The usual array of dreams continued; interspersed with brief flickers of my father, because Loki didn't know what 'crossing the line' meant. Moron.

But there was still no contact with him. He hadn't spoken to me in a few days, and I was almost starting to worry about him. He couldn't normally go for too long without having a sociopath-arrogance-rant.

Then again, he'd once gone a whole month without saying a word. Whatever suited his interests best, right? This shouldn't worry me so badly. But it did.

There was no sense in worrying if I didn't do anything about it, though. Sighing heavily, I pulled myself away from my books and headed to my room. I could feel Loki tensing in my brain. He'd been watching. Watching very carefully, it seemed, but never saying a word.

Ok. Something was _definitely_ wrong.

Once I was safely inside my room, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. _We need to talk. _

No reply. I frowned; I could _feel _him there. There was no doubt that he could hear me, no doubt that he was listening. So why wasn't he replying? What possible reason could he have?

_Please?_

Still nothing. I folded my arms across my chest.

_Answer me,_ I growled. He was in my head and manipulating my brain. The least he could do is talk to me when I wanted him to. Answer a few of my questions.

_What is there to say? _His voice whispered in my head. _You continue to forget, Miss Frost, that we are enemies._

_If I do, that's your fault,_ I answered. _You came to me and acted all mushy-gushy sweet with sugar and candy fluff. At least… you used to act that way._

It was true, he had acted kind to me at first. But these days… my heart sank to my toes. We _were _enemies. I knew that. I was fully aware of it. I cussed him out on frequent occasions, I hated his guts, I had nice little thoughts of ripping his smug head off. But…

_You know that was a figment._ He broke me out of my thoughts. An_ illusion._

_A lie is best when based in truth,_ I replied easily. _Some of that was the truth. _

He sighed heavily. _Is there something you want, Natalie?_

_Yeah. I want you to look at me when I'm talking to you. _

I waited for a long moment, giving him time to establish an illusion of himself standing in front of me, as he did so frequently. He hadn't done so the last time, hadn't let me see him. And now again, he was resisting. I wanted to know why.

He did not reply for so long that I scowled. _If you don't, I'm going to do this. _I started mentally singing. _I know an annoying song, annoying song, annoying song, I know and annoying song and this is how it goes. I know an-_

_Oh, enough,_ He snapped, and I was surprised by the pronounced exhaustion in the words. There was something cold in my chest as he said, _I have no time for your foolish games, your petty requests._

He was lying. I didn't know why he was lying, or what exactly he was lying about, but I did know that he was lying. _Why won't you let me see you?_ I demanded, folding my arms over my chest. Ok. Let's see who's the most stubborn here. Nano-girl or crazy Norse god.

_Because I've no time for it._

Pain. There was definitely pain there. As well as the lie; that was it, right there. That was what he'd been lying about. He had time. He had all the time in the world. I didn't know why, but this fact hurt him. I glared at the mirror across the room.

_You're lying to me. Something is wrong, and I want to know what it is. _

_Does it __**matter? **_There was the barest of emphasis on his words. _Why would you care? Why would you care for even a second?_

_Why wouldn't I?_

_Because I am your enemy. And you are mine._

_Exactly. If something's hurting you and it isn't me, I'm gonna get pissed. _

I thought I could sense his eyes rolling. But he fell silent.

There was a long pause in the conversation. Then, very gently, I said, _Loki…_

I didn't get to finish; I blinked, and he was there. I gasped aloud.

He still held himself high, with all of his usual regality, his arrogant manner. His gaze still stared down at everyone else, colder than ice, frozen and bleak. But the little smirk was gone, and there was almost a defiance in his posture; as though he was daring me to think less of him. Daring me to laugh, to scorn him.

Daring me to make a remark on the bruises that ran along his jaw line and ringed his eyes, the cut that split his lip.

Unable to help myself, I took a hesitant step forwards; Loki did not move. The bruises were dark, but healing. The cut wasn't bleeding, but scabbed over, a few days old. His eyes, blackened and sore-looking, also showed signs of healing. I reached towards him, barely aware that I was doing so, until my fingers touched his face.

They passed right through, of course; this was only an illusion. But, for a moment, both of us seemed to forget that; Loki stiffened, and I thought for sure that my fingers would touch the purple-black skin of his bruise. But we were both illusions; unable to touch each other, able only to talk, only to see each other.

I pulled my hand back, and Loki relaxed slightly, letting out a breath that I'm sure he wasn't aware he was holding. I couldn't stop staring at the injuries. They were clearly not accidental; first, because it takes quite a lot to injure an Asgardian. They don't get bruises from being a klutz. Second, because he likely wouldn't have gone through those great lengths to hide it from me if that were the case.

And third: there was a feeling of malice that surrounded those injuries. Every time I looked at them, I could just _sense _the hands that struck him, the fury behind each swing. Though that was probably my link with him; showing me impressions of things that I had never seen, thoughts that I'd never had.

I tried to tear my eyes away, to look up and meet his gaze, which I could feel boring holes into me. But I couldn't. I couldn't stop looking at the bruises, at the red scab on his lip. My hands, which had fallen to my sides, started trembling; but not from fear this time. Not even close.

It surprised me, how absolutely furious the sight made me. How badly I wanted to choke out whoever had done it. Fire started to boil my blood, but ice took over my heart, my thoughts turning cold and black, tuning out everything but those bruises and the one who had caused them. My vision turned red, and I tasted blood in my mouth; my heartbeat roared in my ears as I spoke through clenched teeth. "Who did this?"

Loki didn't respond for a moment. I looked up at him at last-he stood a little taller than me, I only now realized- and I met his gaze. He was watching me curiously, his head tilted to the side, like he just couldn't quite figure me out.

"Who did this?" I repeated, and somehow my words grew even darker.

"It doesn't matter," he answered loftily.

"Bullshit," I growled, hands clenching in tight fists. "Give me a name."

He smiled wryly. "You would not know him."

"_Who was it?_"

I don't know what I planned to do when I found out who had mangled Loki's face like that. It wasn't like I could go find them and give them a beat down. It wasn't like they would deserve it even if I could. Loki, after all, was less than innocent. It was probably self-defense. Or maybe someone saw him on the streets and tried to be a hero. Hell, it could even have been one of the Avengers.

But it didn't feel like that to me. From the look in Loki's eye, from the background thoughts in his head (which he was mostly blocking, but I still had a fair impression of things)… I could just tell that it wasn't. This was intentional. Somehow, Loki had been rendered helpless. Alone. With no means of defense. And someone had capitalized on it.

Loki's eyebrow arched, and he turned away from me. He wasn't leaving; he just wasn't looking at me anymore. He was studying his surroundings. Ignoring me.

I growled in the back of my throat. I was furious, and he wasn't helping things by not answering my questions. I closed my eyes and concentrated. I'm a psychiatrist. _No one _keeps _me _out.

Now, I knew that I'd been crossing a line before, invading his mind and pulling out his thoughts on his father. But this was different. This wasn't about his daddy issues. This was about _him, _and what someone had done to him. I was going to stop it from ever happening again, even ifI was going to end up beating Loki up myself sometime later in our lives. Picking on someone helpless, no matter who they were, did not settle right with me.

I had to stop it.

Loki froze, stiffening as he sensed me poking around in his brain again. Immediately, black walls were thrown around all thoughts of his past, and he clamped down on anything family-related. But I wasn't looking for that.

He whirled to me, eyes on fire. I met his gaze steadily, the ice in my own eyes battling against him.

This time, neither of us spoke to each other. There were no taunts, no cutting remarks, no sniping. There was just the battle inside our minds. Ice and fire clashed and twisted in my head, sending pain flaring throughout my entire body. But my own fury battled back, holding me upright, standing steady as a rock. My feet locked in place; no more falling to the ground, no more accepting the pain. I was fighting back. Loki was going to tell me who had done this whether he liked it or not.

Loki started pulling up some gruesome images, making them flash before my eyes. But I'd been expecting that; I barely batted an eye as I saw my mother's limp and lifeless form, April's body covered in blood. I kept pushing at the black, fiery barrier that kept me from the truth.

Loki stepped it up; the images twisted into my own bloodied hands, my laughter ringing in the air as I pulled the trigger, or stabbed with the knife. As my hands wrapped around April's throat. Still I kept fighting. He wasn't going to beat me. I'd been beaten too many times before.

I started throwing my own thoughts into the game; showing him my feelings on the matter. Showing him my fury. My indignation. Showing him how wrong this felt to me.

Loki pushed it aside, and the images in my brain intensified. My father's lifeless corpse. Memories of the things that he'd said to me, long before he left. The two of us, my father and I, locked in a death match, with only one survivor and yet none at all…

I felt my resolve weakening just the slightest touch; Loki pounced on that, throwing everything he had at me. Pain exploded behind my eyes, and my entire body felt so numbed by agony that I was barely conscious of even being alive anymore. But I clung to my battle, clung to my war with him, the war of our minds. In desperation, I threw out one last emotion, showed him one last thing…

I showed him how sorry I was that the two of us had to be enemies… and I made him _feel _it.

Loki gasped suddenly, stumbling backwards. I felt a breakthrough; the walls shattered, dissolving into thousands of glass shards. The pain stopped, and Loki ripped himself away from his side of the battle, protecting himself. Like the way you reflexively curl your arms to your body when injured.

For once, I'd won.

For an eternity that was really only half a second, the two of us just looked at each other in shock; neither of us could believe it. Neither of us was sure if it was actually real, if it had actually happened. And then I started searching, scrambling for a name, a face, anything that would tell me who had done this…

"Natalie! Get down here! It's important!"

Stark's voice over the intercom shattered my concentration for only a split second; but that was all it took. Loki, still wide-eyed, tore himself away from my mind. He vanished from my sight, our link all but severed as he tucked himself away at the farthest corner of my thought. He was no longer even daring to watch; all I could sense from him was the softest of background whispers, so quiet it was unintelligible.

Still I tried; I ripped at those voices, clawed at them, tried to snatch at them. But it was like holding sand; the tighter I grasped them, the faster they slipped away from me, until I was left with silence.

For a second, I did nothing. I just stared at the blank wall, doing nothing, thinking nothing, feeling _nothing._

And then I snapped.

I slammed my hands into my bookcase, almost toppling it over. I whirled around and picked up my mattress, flipping it over and onto the ground, where it landed in a mess of sheets and pillows. I kicked at one of these pillows, throwing it upwards with my foot so that it knocked against the ceiling fan. As it fell back to the ground, I started jumping up and down on the rest of them.

"Dammit, dammit, _dammit!_" I shouted, followed by a whole mess of even uglier swears. I threw every foul word I knew into the air; and I know a _lot. _In three languages.

I tore through the room, my blood hot and my vision still crimson; and strangely, the room seemed a little… brighter. Like my rage was lighting up the whole Tower. I didn't take much notice; I was busy destroying things.

My little rant lasted about five minutes, and when I was done, there was hardly anything left standing in my room. I looked around at the chaos I had wreaked. It hadn't helped. I still felt wretched. Miserable. And now I was out of breath as well.

I'd been_ so close…_

I took a deep breath and ran my fingers through my hair, grasping a handful and leaving my hand on top of my head. I closed my eyes, trying to relax. Then, carefully, I walked over to the little intercom button next to the wall. I knew my voice would be broadcast over the whole of Stark Tower, but I could've cared less at the moment.

"Tony," I said, very sweetly and kindly despite the fact that I was speaking through my teeth. "So help me, if this isn't good, I'm going to rip your head off and stuff it down your throat."

There was a pause. Then, "I don't know about 'good', Pizza Girl, but it's definitely something big. Get down here."

I sighed and obeyed, taking the stairs so that I could delay the inevitable; and so that I could burn off a bit of my lingering anger. I kept a close watch on Loki's whispers in the back of my head, but he kept his thoughts locked up tight. I had no access whatsoever.

That is, until I entered the room where Stark and the other Avengers were sitting. Because that's when I saw _him_.

I did not need Loki's unconscious little sigh to tell me who this was; I had seen him in my dreams. Loki's nightmares. I had seen him when I'd been scrounging around in Loki's skull the first time. I knew what he loved, I knew what he feared, I knew his very heart.

So I was almost offended when Tony acted as though I didn't know his name. "Natalie Frost, this is…"

"Thor Odinson," I cut in, my eyes narrowing a little. I folded my arms over my chest and leaned my shoulder against the doorframe as I scanned him up and down. Bright blue eyes watched me, a little warily, his confusion very clear. Obviously, no one had told him about me yet.

But I had other things to think about. In the darkest tone of voice I could, I called across the void that Loki had put between us. _Just answer me this. Was it __**him?**_

There was silence in my head.

_Don't lie to me, Loki. __**Was **__**it **__**him?**_

Again, silence.

And then Loki spoke.

_No._

* * *

I guess I was relieved to find out that Thor hadn't smacked his brother around a bit. While that would've made things a lot easier, having him here so I could deliver some swift Frost justice, the Avengers viewed Thor as the 'good guy'. Which meant that I'd seen him that way, too. Despite Loki's attempts to change my mind.

Loki wasn't lying. I'd gotten better at telling the difference between his lies and his truths; and besides, what reason would he have for telling me his brother _wasn't _the bad guy? It wouldn't make much sense.

Now that I knew that Thor wasn't my culprit, I let my hostile demeanor relax a little. Not much, though. There were still plenty of other reasons to be mad at Thor. The first of which…

"So," I said curtly, arms still folded as I glared at him. "Why'd you let him escape?"

"Natalie," Bruce chided quietly. I turned my harsh gaze to him.

"_What?_" I demanded. "We're all thinking it. Sorry if having the Norse god of Crazy Pants in my brain has made me a little less willing to make polite small talk."

There was silence for a moment. Then, Tony joined the party.

"How _did _it happen, anyway?" he asked, perfectly open and honest about it. Thor's eyebrows furrowed.

"And why didn't you come and get the Avengers the second it _did?_" I demanded. Thor turned his confused gaze to me.

"I'm afraid I don't understand." He looked back to Tony. "Who are you referring to?"

"Who _else?" _I sneered. I wasn't in the mood for games. "Your brother, of course. Loki."

There was a stab of ice down my spine as I said the words aloud; and a sudden tightening around Loki's thoughts. If I'd thought his mind was impenetrable before, it was nothing compared to now. I wondered what had set it off.

"There seems to be a misunderstanding," Thor said, his eyes very sincere. "My brother has not escaped." He looked to me, way too rational for my emotion-crazed brain right now. "He is on Asgard. I visited him only yesterday."

Dark premonition started churning in my gut. I had an idea of where this was going, and I did _not _like it.

There was silence for a beat as his words sank in. Clint's hand tightened around his bow, Steve's jaw clenched, and Natasha looked pensive. "Could it have been one of his illusions?" she asked.

"No. We made certain of that beforehand."

I snorted. Yeah, with a fist to the face. Just because Thor hadn't smacked Loki around didn't mean some other Asgardian hadn't. Most of the Avengers ignored the sarcastic gesture-they were so used to it by now- but Thor looked puzzled and-I realized, a bit guiltily- slightly hurt.

I tried to reign myself in. This wasn't Thor's fault. It was Loki's. Everything was Loki's fault. Everything was always Loki's fault.

The mental walls between us grew thicker.

"If he's still in Asgard, then what the hell is he doing in my brain?" I asked dangerously. If anything, Thor looked more confused than ever.

"Your brain…?" He inquired. There was a collective, inward sigh from the group as we all realized what needed to be done.

"Maybe we should start at the beginning," Bruce said, then gave me a pointed glance. "Natalie, could you bring us your sketchbook? I'm sure he'll want to see the pictures you drew."

In other words, 'Natalie, get the hell out of here before someone turns green and cranky'. They didn't necessarily _need _my sketchbook, so I was loath to obey, but after a moment's deliberation, I left the room.

I took the stairs again, slowly and deliberately this time, so that the others would have time to talk. Loki was taking furtive glances at the situation from time to time, but otherwise he was keeping his distance.

As I walked, I tried to think of what I'd just learned. Thor, at the very least, _believed _that Loki was still back on Asgard. Whether or not he was right was another matter entirely; but I knew, with a sickening certainty in my gut, that he was. Because it all made sense; why Loki was 'hiding', instead of attacking us directly. Why no one could find out where on Earth he was; because he wasn't on 'Earth' to begin with. Why Thor had been 'missing' for so long; he hadn't known anything was wrong. Perhaps it even explained why our link was so permanent; why he wasn't removing himself from my brain even now, when he feared that I could breech his mental defenses. Maybe it took a lot of energy to establish a link like that; energy he wouldn't have access to in prison. Like starting a car engine; that extra little boost that it took to kick-start the thing sometimes wore it out faster than if you just left it running. Maybe the same principle applied.

Or maybe Loki was just crazy. Who knew anymore?

On reaching my room, I opened the door and went inside. I searched around in the chaos, grabbed my sketchbook… then sank into a chair. They wouldn't be done talking about the whole thing yet. It would take time for Thor to grasp the situation properly; and of course, he'd have his own anger at Loki to deal with. I shuddered subconsciously; Loki's fear was infectious. And he _was _afraid of his brother, for a various number of reasons. Most of those reasons, however, had less to do with Thor's ability to kick his butt and more to do with Loki's own feelings.

I shook out of it. I had enough to deal with right now, without delving into the inner workings of Loki's mind. I could do that once I had him _out _of mine. But the outlook seemed grim; if Loki could invade my thoughts even behind bars, then how were we ever going to stop him?

My head spun; I placed it on my desk carefully and just sat there for a moment. A long moment. I let my thoughts wander and ramble, half-dozing.

_I have always lied to you, Miss Frost._

The words startled me so badly I almost fell backwards, out of my seat and onto the floor. Thankfully, that didn't happen. But my heart _did _skip a beat. _What?_ I shot back immediately, but it was too late. Loki had entered my mind just long enough to say that, then left again, clamming up entirely. I tested the barriers between us; rock-solid, air-tight. Nothing getting in or out. I sighed and looked into the mirror. My reflection looked haggard and worn, but at the same time… energized. I smiled ruefully; well, at least you could never say my life was boring.

I thought over what Loki had said. _I have always lied to you, Miss Frost._ Well, that was basically a confession right there. He was definitely in prison; he'd been lying to me this whole time about his plans, about where he was, what he was doing, how powerful he was. But there was something else to it as well. He was almost… warning me. There was something else he'd been lying to me about, something else he'd let me believe, something else that was false. I frowned. Why warn me? Was it more than a warning? Was it… an apology?

An apology for something he had done… or something he was _going _to do?

If he was sorry about it, why didn't he just come clean about it now, just tell me everything?

I flipped through the pages of my sketchbook. Loki's eyes stared up at me from where I'd drawn them in those days of long ago, when the sadness there was unexplained. When I didn't see malice in him. When he may have been my enemy, but I was not his.

Why didn't he stop it? If he was sorry, why not? Because he couldn't. He'd set his own path and was now determined to see it through to its end.

Self-fulfilling prophecy.

I felt a chill through my blood as 'Internal Dialogue' began playing in my head again, as it almost always did whenever I thought about Loki for too long. Or even when I just saw his face. But the words suddenly took on new meaning for me. And I wondered if Loki's self-fulfilling prophecy was the _only _one.

Now, it seemed that there was a taint of sudden, unexpected truths to these words, now that I was aware of his imprisonment…

"_For all that they knew/ you were safe home/ but you went through hell whenever you were left alone."_

* * *

When I returned to the room where the Avengers were seated, everyone was silent. I tossed the sketchbook Thor's way; he caught it with ease. Ok. So now we had another superhero to make me feel self-conscious about my athletic abilities. Good to know.

He didn't seem to need to look at the pictures; I could see from the steely look in his bright blue eyes that he completely believed us; and why wouldn't he? Loki had done worse things in his life than just invading the mind of one girl. And he undoubtedly planned to do those worse things when he escaped.

Still, Thor glanced through the sketchbook, eyeing the crude pictures of his brother. Then, carefully, he set the book aside, looking to me. "And he has spoken to you directly?"

I almost laughed. Instead, I gave him a rueful nod. "He's quite chatty."

Thor frowned deeply, then looked to Tony, who took the conversation from there.

"Thor thinks that you should go to Asgard," Stark told me, wasting no time. "His father might be able to help; might even be able to get Loki out of your head for good."

My eyebrows shot up, disappearing beneath my bangs. My head started to feel cold. Eesh, for someone who wasn't steadily watching, Loki seemed to know a lot about the conversation. Well, this was too important to him to let his fear of me getting into his head stop him. I looked to Thor; as much as Tony seemed excited by the idea, seemed optimistic, Thor did not. My stomach twisted. I could see in his eyes; Thor did not believe his father could sever the link between Loki and I. He was offering out of courtesy, out of the need to try; not because he thought it would succeed.

"And if not…?" I prodded, surprising most of the other Avengers; but Thor's eyes went to me. I didn't look at him. I was giving him a way out; a way to feel as though he did the right thing, a way of knowing that I wouldn't blame him if his father failed.

"Then we'll find some other way," Banner answered, as he usually did. No-win scenarios seemed almost as hard on him as they were on Tony; though perhaps for different reasons. I nodded, sighing and leaning against the wall. There. Make it look like I was pessimistic about the whole thing. That way, Thor would know that I thought the chance was as slim as he did.

I was paying so much attention to Thor, and to the way I looked to him, that I didn't notice Loki watching even more intently; in fairness, he didn't seem to notice that he was watching, either. But the instant I noticed him, he fled. I sighed inwardly, wondering how long it would take before the two of us could talk again.

Well, maybe not that long at all…

I looked to Thor, posing my question directly to him, cutting out the other Avengers. "If we do go to Asgard…" I bit my lip. Man, the others were not going to be happy about _this. _"Can I see him? Loki?"

I was right. They _didn't _like it. Clint's eyes whipped to me, scanning me up and down. Tony looked at me, both eyebrows raised high. Steve's own eyebrows furrowed; he didn't seem as suspicious as the others, but I could tell the idea of me being next to Loki- a real, live Loki, that could actually hit me or choke me out- didn't sit right with him. I glanced to them.

"What can he do to me?" I asked Steve. "He needs me for one reason or another. He won't hurt me."

Thor deliberated. His eyes were intent on me, trying to figure me out. Everyone wanted to figure me out. I stood my ground; when our gaze met, Thor seemed to realize everything he wanted to know. He sat back and nodded slowly.

"I see no harm in it," He answered. The other Avengers looked at _him _like he'd just come from outer space. Which he had. But still.

"No _harm?_" Clint asked, then glared at me. "You don't see him enough when he poisons your dreams at night, now you have to see him face to face as well?"

I didn't back down. "Wouldn't _you _want to? He _brainwashed _you. Didn't you want to face him _yourself?_"

"Yeah, to put an arrow in his eye," Clint shot back. Also not backing down. "What could you possibly gain from just a _conversation_ with him?"

I shrugged. "Closure. Some peace of mind. Call it whatever you like."

"I don't think this is a good idea, Natalie," Bruce said carefully. "Loki is dangerous."

I laughed. "What, you think I don't _know _that?"

"We can't let you do this, Frost," Natasha said coldly.

Thor looked ready to come to my defense, but I didn't let him. I was holding my own now. Fighting the urge to throw my recent victory against Loki in their face (I didn't want to say anything about the injuries, and I couldn't tell that story without doing so), I snapped at the female spy, "And what are you? My mother? No. The fact of the matter is, none of you are my parents, and none of you can _control_ me. I'm twenty years old, and perfectly capable of handling my own decisions." I stood as tall as I could. "You can try and stop me all you like. But I'm going to talk to him, one way or another."

There was a long, very heavy silence. I stood tall despite the pressing weight of the Avengers' stares. Again, I did not look at Thor. That would've been seen as a sign of weakness; looking to someone else on my side for help.

Tony spoke first, running a hand down his face. "Hey, why not?" He looked up to me. "Let the little idiot get herself killed. I, for one, would love to put Loki in the same room as a shrink and see how long it takes for him to snap."

That seemed to hit home for Steve. "This isn't a game, Stark," he said cuttingly.

"Who said it was?" Tony shot back. "Natalie made her choice. Let her deal with the consequences."

"What do _you _know about consequences?" Steve growled; Natasha stepped in. Surprisingly, in my defense.

"He's right. Natalie made her choice." She sat back; I was about to shoot her a grateful look, but the coldness in her eyes stopped me.

Clint stood and left the room, not even bothering to give his opinion. That was ok. I was fairly certain I knew what it was, anyway. Bruce shook his head slowly.

"I can't say I agree with this," he articulated slowly. "But if your decision is made, then it is made."

I nodded at him, curtly. Steve looked to me, seeming almost… betrayed. Not quite, though. He stood and exited as well; I frowned. We were supposed to be headed off to Asgard, weren't we? But Tony cleared that up.

"So we leave tomorrow morning," he said, giving me a nod.

"Tomorrow?" I questioned. Tony nodded again.

"Thor used the Tesseract to come here. If he uses it again, so soon… the energy buildup could potentially threaten New York."

"Ah. That would be bad."

"Yes it would."

The remaining Avengers shared a glance, with me standing in the doorway. Still in the sidelines, sitting in the bleachers. Not a player in the games. I shook the thought out of my head, then waved over my shoulder and left, calling, "See you tomorrow, then!" I couldn't think of what else to say; what hadn't already been said? We knew the plan. We knew what we were supposed to do. We were all going to head off to Asgard tomorrow and I was going to speak to Loki face-to-face for the first time. There was nothing else to talk about; nothing that I was _willing _to talk about.

It was only six o'clock in the afternoon, so my plans to just go and pass out in my bedroom until morning were for naught. But I went to my room anyway, opened the door, and looked woefully at the mess that I'd created in my earlier hissy fit. Sighing heavily, I got to work.

I wasted a good hour cleaning the space up again, fixing my bed, my nightstand, the drawers that I'd ripped out and flung across the room. I wasted another hour stripping all the books from their case and putting them back in alphabetical order. It was busy work; something to keep my hands moving while my brain did other things. I zoned out a lot, my room getting neater and tidier as my mind grew crazier, more chaotic. I knew I should probably talk to Thor a bit more, seeing as I'd never met him before. But with Loki's brain in my own, it already felt as if I'd known the man for my whole life. I also knew that I should apologize for my earlier hostility, but I couldn't find it in me. I was in shock.

Loki. Imprisoned. Not free, not roaming the streets, just planning something from the confines of a cold, unforgiving cell. My thoughts kept returning to the things he'd said to me when we'd first met, when he'd been pretending to care about his past monstrosities, when he'd been pretending to be my friend, to care about _me. _So many different things:

"_Alone. I am alone, Natalie Frost."_

" _Don't let them take me away."_

"_It's so lonely here, and so dark…"_

How much of that was based in truth? How much of it was his true terror, his true heartache bleeding through?

And then those little snippets of poetry that had plagued my dreams…

"_A quiet dark, an unsettling time, a broken heart, a tired rhyme. A silent day, a measured hour, a saddened child, a father in power. An endless dream, a restless sleep, a tear unseen, an unlocked keep."_

I shuddered. The poetry had less to do with Loki's imprisonment, but each phrase had more meaning now than it ever did when those words had first been whispered in my nightmares. And some of it certainly _did _apply to this new information: _'A quiet dark', 'an unlocked keep'… _

Another shiver ran its course through me. Loki was tucked away where this world should never have heard from him again, and yet… here he was, causing trouble once more.

My head ached as I put the last book away and collapsed onto my bed. It was still only eight o'clock, so I picked up a book and tried-unsuccessfully- to read. After about five minutes, I put it away in its neat little slot and sat on the edge of my bed, staring unseeingly at the mirror. My reflection watched me with hollow eyes, her thoughts clearly somewhere else.

Well, this cleared up one thing; it was now easy to tell how Loki had been rendered defenseless enough for someone to injure him. He was a prisoner; and another Asgardian could do some serious damage to him, unlike most humans. The only problem now was figuring out _which _Asgardian it was.

_Was it Odin?_ I questioned. Loki didn't respond; he wasn't really watching, so I threw the question across the dimensions that spanned between us. His background thoughts stirred a little; he'd heard the question. But he didn't answer me.

I didn't think it _was _Odin, though. It didn't seem his style. But I was left in the dark on who else it could be. The room was all but spinning as all of these questions taunted and tugged at me, twisted my mind until I could think of nothing else. I curled up on my bed, hugging my pillow close to my body and closing my eyes. Loki's face lingered behind my eyelids, and 'Internal Dialogue' was playing on a loop. Over and over and over again, the haunting melody wavered about in my brain.

I stayed like that for a very, very long time; I must've dozed off a few times, though it felt like I never did. My dreams were so intermingled with these twisted thoughts that I could barely tell the difference. But, when I opened my eyes again, four hours had passed; it was midnight already. I sat up, my stomach churning so badly that I found myself unable to lie down any more. I quickly checked to see if Loki was paying attention, but he wasn't. He wasn't taking the risk.

I made a swift attempt to breech his defenses again, trying to reach out with the same feeling that I'd used to beat him before. No good; Loki's thoughts cringed at my touch and receded even further. Well, I'd be able to speak to him one on one soon enough. I just had to wait for morning; which I suspected I would be awake long enough to do so.

I wasted some more time, going through outfits for tomorrow. What do you wear when going to an alien dimension? Something nice, obviously. Formal, even. I wondered what the Avengers would wear; if they might suit up and go into Asgard looking like freaks. Tuh. This would be so much easier if I had a suit like them…

My cheeks flushed, and I pushed the thought aside. I had way too much to worry about without adding that to the list; Loki, Thor, Odin…

I thought to the reason why we were going in the first place; not so that I could see Loki, but so that Odin could try and sever the link between myself and his adopted son. I tried not to think about what it would mean if he failed.

And what it would mean if he succeeded.

My heart plunged down to the tips of my toes, and I suddenly felt dizzy. I could barely remember what it was like, not having Loki in my brain. Not having his snide comments, his arrogant blustering invading my quiet, private thoughts. Not having to worry about him at all. There were even memories of mine; memories that he'd searched through when bored (and he was bored a lot; he was in prison, after all). Past experiences that he had twisted slightly, or remarked on casually, so quietly that I wouldn't even notice until I thought back to the memory later. Like a hidden message in my brain.

And in these now-changed memories, it seemed as though he was actually there with me. Like I'd known him since the day I was born.

But that wasn't even the worst of it. If Odin _did _manage to break the link… then the Avengers would have no reason to remain together. They would split off, go their separate ways, leaving me at Stark Tower; just until I managed to control the nanobots. And then I would be back at my old home, back in my old life again. Back to 'normal'.

If Odin succeeded tomorrow, then we would have won. There would be no more battle to fight.

I wasn't ready to say goodbye.

I wasn't ready to be alone.

I turned away from the closet and looked into the mirror again. The fear in my own eyes scared me; what would I be without this battle? What would I be without this war? I had changed so much in the past few months, and I hadn't even realized it until it was almost too late. I placed my hand on the cold glass surface, and my reflection did the same. I looked at myself, deep into the depths of my own eyes, as though pleading for answers that only I could give.

_What are we, if we are not enemies? _I asked of Loki, though I knew he wasn't listening. _What will we be, if we are no longer at war?_

_Will we be anything? _

The obvious answer, of course, was 'no'. Loki and I quite literally came from two different worlds; without our telepathic link, there would be no contact between us. There would be nothing; nothing but the emptiness, the solace in my own head. And I wanted that. That was everything I wanted.

Right?

_Well, if I could choose someone to hang out in my head, it wouldn't be __**him,**_I thought, then snorted aloud. It would take some getting used to, the sudden quiet, without the lingering whispers that were always with me. But I wouldn't miss a lot of things; the nightmares, for one. The constant fear. The way Loki drew lines, then crossed them, then obliterated them.

I wouldn't miss his little arrogant rants, or his smug laughter. I wouldn't miss his little tantalizing hints about his plans, or the way he always said I was so 'ignorant'. I wouldn't miss our constant inner battles.

This would be a good thing.

As I looked in my own eyes, I thought I could see his blue ones staring back. I would miss those blue eyes. I would miss the thought that I could help someone in a way no one else could. Even if that someone was Loki the _Loco_.

There were a lot of cons to this relationship, and not nearly as many pros.

This would be a good thing.

_If it succeeds. _

I almost thought it was Loki's voice; the thought came from no where. But then I realized that it was something else; some other part of myself that rebelled against the very idea of losing this link. Foreign and alien, it sent fire surging through me.

_If it succeeds. If Odin wins. _

I felt my blood begin to heat up, molten lava flowing through my veins. Thor did not seem to think this a very likely possibility. It probably wouldn't happen. And I was scared by how happy that thought made me. I knew I should hate Loki. But I didn't.

I hated the things he did.

But I could not hate _him._

I moved away from the mirror, feeling a bit unnerved. Ok, that was enough introspection for now; I had to snap out of it. I chose my outfit for the trip to Asgard tomorrow; a simple black dress that was too short to wear without pants, and sturdy-but-nice jeans. Formal enough, without going too far. Though I would probably fit in better with a proper dress, I didn't care much; if I _did _get involved in a fight with Loki tomorrow, I didn't want to do it in a frilly, lacy ball gown and high heels.

Once I was finished, I walked out of my room, heading towards the roof. Since Steve had shown me how beautiful it could be up there, I'd been spending more and more of my sleepless nights standing in the cold snow, in the city's golden darkness. Sometimes I would meet Steve up there, and the two of us would talk, drink hot chocolate, or just sit in comfortable silence.

Not today. As I burst into the fresh air, I realized that I was not the only one seeking the serenity and peace of the snow-muffled view; but it was not Steve.

It was Thor.

He didn't notice me for a moment; he seemed very wrapped up in his own thoughts. I took that moment to study him. I hadn't really seen him before, not for long, not with my own eyes. He, like every other one of the Avengers, was completely gorgeous; blonde hair, brilliant blue eyes, thick muscles… and a very tough-but-kind face. I would've been supremely jealous, but the tortured look in his eye kept me from hating him for his looks. There was so much regret in his slumped shoulders as he stared out at the streets below, leaning against the railing, his hands grasping it tightly.

I cleared my throat, announcing my presence. Thor turned, and he smiled weakly at me.

"Greetings, Miss Frost," he said, very politely. His eyes watched me carefully, waiting to see how I would react. I hadn't really made the best first impression.

"Hey, Thor," I answered, a little less formal than him. I shifted my weight to my right foot and gripped one arm at the elbow with the other hand. "Listen… about earlier…" I looked up at him. He waited patiently for me to speak.

"I think we kind of got off on the wrong foot," I told him. "And that was my fault. I… I'd just gotten a bit of…" I rubbed the back of my head. "A bit of bad news from your brother," I finished, looking up to him. "And I kinda took it out on you."

He half-smiled kindly, but the remorse in his eyes was still very clear. "I understand." He turned away from me, back out to the squares of golden light. I walked a little closer to him, until I was just a few feet to his right, looking out at the darkness with him. Most people might've been intimidated by his tall, commanding aura, or by the biceps that looked like they could squash skulls, or even by the plain and simple fact that he was an Asgardian. But I was not most people. Besides; I'd been living with a hulk for the past few months. Another Asgardian? That was nothing.

"I must apologize for my brother's behavior," Thor said suddenly. "And for my own failings; I should've seen this sooner. I should've prevented this."

I glanced sideways at him, smiling a little. "No one could've seen this. Loki fooled everyone."

"He's my brother," Thor said, his hands clenching the railing again. "He is my responsibility."

Ice spiked through my spine at the word 'brother'. Loki was listening. Intently. He realized that I'd noticed and almost pulled out, but I quickly backed away from him, gave him space. This was a conversation he wanted to hear; and one I _wanted _him to hear.

I looked to Thor. "Loki's not your baby brother anymore; he's a big boy now. He can take responsibility for himself. For his own actions." Thor looked away, not facing me. I reached out a hand and placed it on his arm; had he been anyone else, I would've felt uncomfortable with the gesture, so soon after meeting him. But this felt… natural, almost. I realized that this would be the gesture that Loki would've used and shivered a little, but I didn't pull my hand back. Thor looked to me, his blue eyes round. Almost pleading. He did not seem uncomfortable with it, either.

"I don't blame you for what your brother did, Thor," I told him. "And you shouldn't either."

Thor's gaze found mine. I stared back into his eyes for a long time, studying him, reassuring him. But he was studying me, too; not in the malignant, calculating way that Loki did, but definitely curious.

Finally, he sighed and looked away again. "Thank you, Miss Frost." I nodded, turning my gaze back to the black buildings, all but swamped by light. There was silence for a moment. Then, carefully, Thor said, "May I ask you something?"

"Shoot," I answered easily. He frowned, not seeming to understand, and I fought a grin. "Go ahead," I corrected myself.

"When Stark told you of the purpose for our journey to Asgard… you seemed less concerned about my father removing your link and more concerned about speaking with my brother. Why?"

I didn't face him. I traced patterns in the leftover snow on the railing, my finger numbing in the ice. Thor hadn't exactly been opposed to me speaking with Loki; in fact, he'd seemed fairly confident that it was the right thing for me to do at the time. These thoughts prompted my response: "I think you know."

There was no reply for a few seconds. Then, "Do you care for him, Miss Frost?"

"Do you?" I still didn't look at him.

"Of course."

"Then there's your answer."

I could feel his eyes boring holes in the side of my head, but I still didn't face him. I couldn't bring myself to. Something inside me was shattering as I admitted to this; especially since I was doing so in front of Loki. But it wasn't like he didn't already know. In fact, he seemed more surprised by Thor's easy, affirmative response than by _my_ words.

"You have every reason to hate him," Thor said, and his voice had gone very soft. "Every right."

"So do you," I answered truthfully; a truth all three of us knew, even if no one wanted to admit it aloud. I felt Thor stiffen a little at my side and went on, "Just because you have a right to do something, doesn't mean you _should."_

Thor's piercing gaze finally left me. "I do not believe that I could hate him even if I wanted to. Even after everything that he has done."

I knew the feeling. Very well, actually. "He's your little brother. You're not supposed to hate him." I shuffled a little, my eyes on the ground. "You're supposed to take care of him. To stick by his side on the first day of school, to kick ass on any bully that dares to come close, to be there for him when his first girlfriend dumps him. You're supposed to get pissed at him when he tries his first cigarette, to yell at him when he starts crossing lines, when he begins to travel down the wrong path… To bail him out of jail time and time again and become more and more disappointed… To bear the brunt of his hatred for you, because you were always the 'good son', and the person that he could never be… And, in the end… you're really just supposed to be there, waiting patiently in the wings for the day that he finally hits rock bottom and comes home. You're supposed to welcome him back with open arms, to let him know that you were always there for him… even when he didn't want you."

My eyes had lifted upwards in this time, so that I was watching the stars; a light snowfall had started a while ago, and the gentle flakes drifted to the ground. They were dyed silver in the moonlight, so it seemed as though the stars themselves were bleeding. Or maybe weeping.

"Do you speak from experience?" Thor asked quietly. I shook my head quickly.

"Not _my_ experience, no." I looked to him at last. His eyes searched my face for a few seconds, then turned away. We fell silent for a very, very long time. Even Loki was quiet; still watching, now that I'd given him free reign to do so, but quiet.

"I guess it's not really my place to say anything," I shrugged after a moment, "But… I don't think you should give up on him just yet."

"And what makes you believe that I have?" He inquired; not impolitely, but perhaps a shade defensively. I gave him a rueful smile.

"I didn't say you had," I answered softly. "But I know you're considering it." I turned away from the city and leaned back against the railing so that I could look at him. "Because if you weren't, you wouldn't be talking to a complete stranger about it." He didn't respond. There was a flash of pain from Loki, though he smothered it in seconds. He would not admit to anyone-least of all himself- that he needed his brother to love him.

Again, I placed a gentle hand on Thor's arm. "I know…" I said slowly, considering each and every word. "I know that it's… _easier _to… to try and forget him. To try and… stop caring. It's easier to let him go. But most of the things in life that are worth a damn aren't easy. Not in the slightest." I let go of his arm as he turned to me again. "You can't give up on him. No matter how hard it is; you've got to hold on, no matter how much he claims to hate you. Keep your distance, maybe; for your own sake, and for others. But… hold on."

His eyes softened. Loki did nothing. I smiled a little.

"And yes. That one _is _from experience," I said. Thor gave me a sad, tired smile in return.

There was silence again. Then Thor inquired, "May I ask…?" He didn't seem to know how to phrase the words right. But that was all right; I knew what he was going to say; he wanted to know what experience, in particular, I was referring to. I swallowed back my apprehension; I'd opened myself up to this line of questioning. Time to deal with it.

"My father," I answered. "He… he left me when I was seven." There it was again, on his face; just like every time before. Shock, embarrassment, pity. The emotions displaying themselves in the same order, over and over again. How many times would I say those words before someone else reacted differently?

I ignored him, listing the facts. Throwing a switch and turning my own emotions off just long enough to tell the tale. Everything I'd been doing for thirteen years.

Though this, perhaps, was more than I usually said. But I knew I could trust Thor. It wasn't just intuition; I physically _knew _as much, from Loki's memories.

"I'm the reason he left." I said.

"I'm certain that isn't-" Thor tried, but I cut him off.

"He said so himself," I gave him a sad smile. He shut up. "He didn't want me; there was no custody battle. He just… gave me up. But… the day he left…" I closed my eyes. As though this would be easier to say if I could not see Thor's face, couldn't see _anything._ It wasn't. "He… he'd just gotten into a fight with my mother. And… he said…" I'd never forget the words. Never. Not as long as I lived. Most memories, no matter how important, faded. Sometimes they changed, and you weren't even aware of it. Little differences in words, or the color of someone's shirt…

But I knew these words by heart. The second they had been uttered, I had written them down. My seven-year-old hands wrote down the words that destroyed my life; and I wrote them again and again through the years, clearing up the spelling, the penmanship. The words that ruined me. The words that made me into what I was.

"He told her, 'I can't love you. Because you love… that _thing_.'" I still did not open my eyes. "'Can't you see that it's tearing us apart? Can't you see that it's a _monster?_'"

I'd heard people gasp before. I'd heard people rant and rave for hours about what kind of bastard could do that. April had even promised to build me a cyber-dad-replacement. But Thor remained completely and utterly silent. I opened my eyes at last, and saw that he was… horrified. His mouth was not hanging open, and he showed no real signs of emotion… but his eyes were wide; and they told me everything. There was horror, yes, and there was anger. But there was also something that confused me, something that didn't quite fit.

Guilt.

It was just a flicker. Faint. Hidden. But definitely there. My eyebrows furrowed. What would he have to feel guilty about…?

"And yet you still love him?" Thor questioned, throwing my thoughts off track. I turned back to the conversation at hand, my doubts forgotten almost instantly.

I gave him a rueful glance. "No. In fact, I hate him. I hate him with everything that I am. Whenever I think about him, my blood starts boiling. I just want to go back in time and rip his head off. Everything that I have ever done in life has been to prove him wrong. The good. The bad. Everything."

Thor looked a bit confused, and I elaborated. "But… a part of me knows that… he wasn't always like that. My mother wouldn't have fallen in love with him if that was the case. And, beyond that, I… I loved him too, once. I know I did. And so I wonder… if maybe things would be better… maybe I'd be able to let him go… if I had just been strong enough to keep loving him. No matter how much he hated me." A little, tragic smile played across my lips. "In trying to prove myself as not a monster, I became one just by hating him. I proved him right. Because, if he did return… I no longer know what I would do. What I would be capable of."

If I thought Thor looked guilty before, it was nothing compared to now. He couldn't even meet my gaze any longer. Loki seemed to be angry about his guilt, but when I questioned it, he clammed up. I didn't probe it any further, afraid that he would vanish again, but it sent my head spinning again. I just wished, for one second, that something the Avengers (or their enemies) did would make some _sense. _

"Loki needs you," I finished, deciding not to question it for the time being. "He won't admit it, but he does. You've got to be the stronger one. No matter how it hurts."

The two of us plunged into silence again. After a while, Thor said, "Thank you, Miss Frost," in a very quiet voice, and turned to leave. I let him go, turning to my own inward thoughts. Loki seemed to sense that I no longer wanted him there and scuttled away to the shadows before I could tell him to go. It was somewhat unnerving, holding that kind of power over him. I was used to being the powerless one; but one sense of a fight that he could lose, and Loki vanished into smoke.

But that didn't fit his MO. He _knew _the Avengers could beat him, back in the old days. Maybe not consciously, but he knew it somewhere. He had that whole 'Death Wish' thing going on; he'd never get into a battle that he couldn't lose. Even if he didn't know he was doing so.

Maybe this was different. A man's thoughts were private. Secret. Held away from the rest of the world. No amount of science or technology could let you read a person's thoughts; and I doubted that much magic could do so, either. A person had privacy in their own skull, no matter what else had been taken away.

Since Loki had appeared in my brain, I'd gotten used to the idea of my privacy being invaded; my every thought- past, present, and future- being his. I'm a fairly open person anyway; it didn't matter that much to me. Well, ok, that was a lie; but I got used to it eventually. I had to.

But the link between Loki and I had only recently become a two-way thing. It had been slow, gradual, but it had still caught him off guard. First, I'd started to sense when he was there a lot easier, then started to feel his emotions more intently (even when he wasn't aware he was projecting them) and so on and so forth.

But now I was accessing his memories; even things he didn't want me to see. I had gone toe-to-toe with him, and I had _won. _ The idea that the two of us might be equals… it scared him. He was the king, and I his subject; albeit an annoying, rebellious one. But rebellions don't scare kings until they start to succeed. The little victories that begin chipping away at the kingdom, and at the king's sense of security.

And now we stood on more equal ground. I was starting to invade in a way that hit him _hard. _I'd accessed his memories once before, thrown them in his face… but this was different. Now I was making him _feel _my emotions, as opposed to just sensing them. I'd caught him off guard the first time, when I'd discovered the full truth about his 'daddy issues', but now he knew better. He was no longer underestimating me in the slightest, no longer giving me the advantage of surprise.

And I'd _still _won.

This had to scare him; to know that his mind could possibly become as much of an open book to me as mine was to him. He wasn't used to the idea yet; not like I was. It would take time to accept that, if it ever happened at all.

I sighed and sat in the snow, my butt slowly freezing even through my thick pants. The beautiful night surrounded me, enveloped me. Loki stayed quiet. I stayed quiet. The snow muffled all sound around me, and my breath came out in a cloud. I felt tired suddenly; tired of the constant battling, tired of the nightmares, tired of figuring things out.

But more than that, I was tired of the idea that this was only the beginning. The battle had just begun.

I closed my eyes, and in the frozen world, I began to drift to sleep.

**A/N: ARGH the Asgardians are so hard to write for! **_***slams forehead on desk***_

**Ugh.****I'm sorry if Thor sounds off, ok? It's gonna take me a while to get used to his character and how he speaks. (The same goes for every Asgardian; including Loki. Though I tend to be better at writing for him, for some reason. Maybe it's because I'm used to working with 'villains'. *shrugs*) **

** As always, thanks to all of my readers/reviewers! **


	12. Pizza and Politics

**A/N: OHMYGOSH! This officially has a cover now! YAY! *happy dances***

**I know, it's super original, right? *rolls eyes* Whatever, I like it. I didn't want to pull a random image off of the internets because I don't technically 'own' any of them; and I didn't want to draw/paint something because… well, I'm a writer. Not a painter. The compromise was this little amazing feat of creativity. **

**Also, Odin is a thousand times harder to write for than Thor. So… I know he sounds off. Sorry. **

**Anyway. On to the story! **

* * *

"_Don't be such a child, Thor. What's the worst that can happen?"_

"_This is wrong." My brother looks uncomfortable. "You can't keep doing this, Loki. That mortal…"_

"_She is of no consequence," I blow him off. _

"_I was talking about __**him**_,_" he corrects me. He shakes his head quickly. "This isn't what father would want."_

"_Father isn't here." Honestly. Must he always be- as the mortals would say- such a daddy's boy?_

_Thor bites his lip. "If you do it again, I'll tell him. I'll tell him everything."_

_I scoff, hiding the fear that surges through me. "If you tell father, he'll ask you why you didn't stop me sooner. Why you let it go on so long. You are as guilty as I."_

_He shuffles a little more. "That's not…" he tries, and trails off. I smirk at him and turn back to my little project. _

"_Of course its true," I say softly. "You know it as well as I do."_

_Silver Tongue. That's what people call me sometimes. But I know that, whatever I am, when I speak, people listen. _

_I will make an excellent king someday._

_Thor turns around. "Well, I won't be a part of it any longer," he growls. I don't look at him. Leave it to the golden child to ruin everything fun in life._

_He walks away and I turn my gaze back to the mortals at hand. Smiling to myself, I go back to work. I don't need Thor's approval. I never have._

_Brown eyes meet mine, despite how they can not see me. I smile gently. This will be fun._

* * *

My eyes opened slowly, my vision fuzzy from sleep. My mouth tasted like dirt; and my morning breath was undoubtedly awful.

I was surprisingly warm, given where I fell asleep. I blinked a few times to clear my sight and finally saw the blue, fuzzy blanket that had been carefully tucked around me. I looked around, confused. This wasn't the snowy rooftop; it was the inside of Stark Tower. One of the living rooms. The fourteenth floor, I believe.

I stretched out on the plush couch, my back aching, my spine feeling contorted and weird. I kept glancing around, wondering how I got there. I couldn't remember much past my conversation with Thor; even my dreams were blurred and filled with static. I swallowed thickly.

The door swung open; I looked to it, and Steve looked back at me. There was a smile on his face and a mug of coffee in each hand. He handed one to me and I accepted it gratefully.

"Can I ask: Where you _trying _to catch a cold?" He inquired, a bit too politely.

"Sure," I went with it. "Then I could go all 'War of the Worlds' on Loki's ass." I covered my mouth with my hand and very obviously pretended to sneeze. "Achoo, achoo."

Despite the swear, he grinned and nodded appreciatively. "I understood that one."

"Thought you might."

I pulled my legs closer to myself under the blanket, settling down with my cup of coffee. I blew away the steam gently, then chugged it back a bit, singeing my tongue and scorching out my throat. I could've cared less at that point. It was coffee.

"So what time are we leaving?" I asked of the Captain. He shrugged.

"No one set a time. We'll leave once everyone's ready."

I gave him a look. "How do you get 'ready' to jump dimensions and meet a bunch of magic people that come straight from mythology books?"

He shrugged again. I chuckled a little. The two of us went silent.

After about half of my coffee had been totally drained, Steve, looking pensive, met my eye. "Natalie… you don't have to do this, you know."

"What? Get Odin to sever the link?"

He frowned. "You know what I mean."

I did. I glued my lips to the mug, unwilling to respond. But Steve wouldn't let it go.

"Loki is dangerous." Where had I heard _that _before? "And… whatever he's said…" He glowered at the ground in frustration, trying to think of the correct way to phrase his words. Finally, he repeated, "You don't need to do this."

I chuckled darkly. "Yeah. I think I kinda do."

His eyes turned a little sadder. "I know… that this has been hard on you. That you've had to make a lot of very difficult decisions. And I understand that." He reached out towards me. My muscles tensed a little as his hand brushed against my arm, but I soon relaxed. I'd given Steve a hug before. This was no big deal.

"But I'm afraid… that you're turning to Loki… before you'll turn to one of us." He finished at last. My eyebrows turned into a squiggle line. Well. I wasn't expecting _that _at all.

Was that what he thought this was? I looked deep into his eyes, puzzled. No; he wasn't just referring to this time. He was referring to all the others; all the times I'd spoken to Loki. The Soldier was observant.

These days, I barely ever told the Avengers when I talked to Loki; it happened so frequently, and there was usually nothing to tell. It was rarely important enough; and when it was, there was typically something blocking my way. But they must've seen the way I would just vanish to my room from time to time, the way I'd mutter something under my breath, or how my eyes would go hollow while I was in the middle of doing something else. I'd been known to stare into space for a long time, just arguing with the man. But they were little conversations. Nothing major, nothing too involved; and sometimes completely unrelated to our status as 'enemies'. Rarely, but it did happen sometimes.

Still… I didn't talk to the Avengers as much as I used to. Steve and I hadn't really had a 'heart-to-heart' since I'd asked him the Death Question. Granted, that wasn't so long ago, but given the many, _many _discussions I'd had with Loki in that time, Steve certainly had a point. And I hadn't really renewed the Death Question on all sides, either, or made any further attempt to sway Tony.

I only then realized that Steve was completely right; I _was _looking to Loki before anyone else. If I had a problem, I would work it out by working with him; figuring _him _out. Or I would solve it by myself. I'd call April every so often, or my mother, or one of my other friends… but even that had been a rare thing these days.

I had been hanging around Clint and Natasha more, I suppose. But that was different. That was training. I never really 'talked' with them about anything other than lethal weapons. The same went for me and Bruce; the two of us worked with the nanobots on occasion, but otherwise went our separate ways.

Maybe that was because I thought that I'd never see them again. Maybe I was distancing myself from my family because I wanted them to get over it when Loki inevitably got me killed; whether through his own actions or by putting the Death Question into effect. Maybe I was trying to distance myself from the Avengers so that it would be easier to snuff me out if the situation called for it.

Or maybe I was getting just a bit _too _close to a certain Norse legend.

"You're right," I admitted to Steve, who seemed rather taken aback. "I've been a bit focused on Loki lately. It's hard not to be." I smiled softly at him. Even though I'd been spending a bit of time with Bruce, Natasha, and Clint, I certainly hadn't been talking with Steve that often. And he had the potential to be a very good friend; if he wasn't already. I wouldn't know; to be honest, I had no idea where I stood with any of the Avengers. Except maybe Tony. No, scratch that, not even Tony.

"I'm sorry," I told him, taking the hand that rested on my arm, holding it in my own. "But I'm still going to talk to him. I have to." I recalled the conversation I'd had with Loki the day before, when I'd first seen the bruises, and tried to touch him. Only to remember that he was just an illusion; but then, I was as much an illusion to him as he was to me.

"Because…" I bit my lip. It was nigh impossible to phrase this one right. "Loki's still my imaginary friend. As much as he's a huge part of my life now… it's like… he's not real. He's just the voice in my head. And I have to wonder if that's all I am to him." I held up Steve's hand, pointing to our interlocked fingers with the other hand. "I can't _do _this with him. We can see each other, hear each other… and sometimes we can make each other feel something we want them to… but we can't really _touch._ He isn't _solid. _He's barely real. And if it's the same goes vice versa, then why _shouldn't _he try and use me? Try and hurt me? I'm not real, after all. I don't exist."

Steve considered this. Then, carefully, he removed his hand. "I don't like it, Natalie," He admitted. "But I understand."

"I don't like it either," I answered. "But it has to be done."

I gripped my coffee, downing the last of it, then gave Steve a mock-salute and walked off. I had to get ready, anyway. I'd be going to Asgard soon.

* * *

"No nightgown today?" Stark asked, taking in my semi-formal-but-not-really outfit. "You mean you're actually going to Asgard without your bunny PJs?"

"Bite me, Tony," Was my easy response. Steve almost rolled his eyes. Thor came forwards, a device in his hands that contained what could only be the Tesseract. The device itself was made of glass, with twin gold handles on either side; I suspected that those were what we were meant to hold on to.

The Tesseract, however, seemed almost… beautiful. What seemed to be only a simple, light blue cube at first slowly turned more complex. The light inside it twisted and writhed, lashing about at anyone who came close. I took a few hesitant steps towards it, not really realizing I was doing so. The thing radiated power; I could practically smell it.

I forced myself back a step, trying to confirm a theory. It seemed I was right; the closer I got to it, the stronger I felt. I frowned.

"That's originally Asgardian, right?" I asked of Thor, looking to him. "Not from anywhere else? None of the other realms?"

"Aye."

My frown deepened. I took another, experimental step towards the thing. Everything around me grew a touch sharper, clearer. Like an old TV being upgraded. I heard things better, saw them better, smelt them better, even. The hairs on the back of my arms stood up, alive with a faint electricity, an unknown energy making my blood buzz in my veins. I felt… alive. More alive than I had been in a while; but when I backed up again, the feeling partially faded.

I swallowed. "And Loki used that thing when he came to Earth, right? He got a lot of his power from it?"

They all seemed to realize that I wasn't just curious; that there was a method to my madness. Thor responded "Aye," again while Tony asked, "What're you getting at, Frost?"

"I'm not sure," I admitted. I looked to the spies, standing directly next to each other. "Natasha, do you have a knife?"

Her eyes flickered to Thor and back. She scowled at me; I realized I must have blown her cover on that front. It might've been seen as a sign of hostility, carrying a weapon with you into a world that wasn't your own; not to mention when you were staying in the palace with the king. But she pulled one out of her boot nonetheless, handing it over to me. Thor didn't seem to think it was a big deal; but then, the man carried a massive, lightning-generating war hammer in his belt at all times. I highly doubted that the Asgardians would get that freaked out by a blade.

I took a deep breath, stepping away from the Tesseract. Then, closing my eyes, I dragged the blade painfully across the back of my hand.

"What are you-" Thor started, coming towards me, but Banner stepped partially in his way, stopping him without actually restraining him. He shook his head.

"It's all right. She knows what she's doing."

I hoped that Banner was right about that. Because at that point, I wasn't certain. I took another deep breath and concentrated on the wound.

_Come on, you worthless, creepy little insects. Prove me wrong. Heal._

I opened my eyes after a second, looking to the still-bleeding injury on my hand. I glanced at the other Avengers, who were all watching the blood with the same intensity I was.

I took a few steps towards the Tesseract. Energy seemed to spike through my veins; I fought a shiver as power coursed through me.

It was barely even a conscious thought.

_Heal._

Immediately, the wound closed over, scabbing in seconds, healing almost entirely in a minute. It sealed itself shut with no conscious effort on my part, the nanos reacting to what, exactly, I needed them to do and falling in line like perfect little soldiers.

I stared. Banner stared. Tony stared. We all stared.

"Well," I said, my voice strained and kinda off. I cleared my throat. "That happened."

No one responded. Smiling weakly at them, I held up the still-bloodied hand. "Anyone got a tissue?"

Banner retrieved one for me, and I cleaned it off. Thor looked very puzzled, in a worried sort of way.

"I did not know that the Tesseract was capable of this kind of magic," He said, his eyebrows furrowing.

"It's not," I answered. "That was good ol' Earth tech; just… fueled by the Tesseract." I looked to him, gesturing to the blue cube. "How close is that thing to Loki's cell?"

"Quite a fair distance," He reassured me.

I nodded slowly. "And yet, he somehow used the Tesseract to power the nanobots. Which were another whole dimension away, I might add." I frowned again. "Something does not add up here."

"Residual energy?" Bruce theorized. "Maybe Loki still had some of the Tesseract's energy in him?"

"Maybe," I conceded. "But if that's the case, then it has to be taking a lot out of him; first manipulating Tony into forgetting the edits to his tech, then manipulating the tech itself… and _then _getting into my head? He must be totally drained."

"So what does this mean?" Natasha asked, getting straight to the point. I shrugged.

"Nothing. Everything. Anything. I don't really know." I admitted. "It's just another fact in a long list. Something to keep in mind."

The others exchanged glances, then nodded. I held out my hand for the device that surrounded the Tesseract. "Well, are we getting off this planet, or what?"

Thor dropped the other handle into my outstretched palm; my fingers curled around one corner. Natasha's hand joined mine on the same side, as did Banner's and Steve's. It got pretty crowded, but somehow we managed it. Tony and Clint gripped the other side with Thor.

"Let's do this thing," Tony said, an eager spark in his eye. Steve was eyeing me carefully. I was barely paying attention. My eyes were on the back of my hand; despite the fact that the cut was mostly healed- as were the scabs of all the cuts I'd made previously- I could still see it. A thin line of pink-red, barely visible. And yet, it was so intensely clear to me.

And I felt _good. _I felt like I could just… run. Run forever and ever and never stop. I felt like I could pick Clint up and toss him across the room- and the idea was tempting- or maybe just start a fight with him. I felt like I would win if I did. I could hear my heart in my ears, but it wasn't too loud or too fast; it was just another part of me. A constant, steady drone. A signal, letting me know at all times that I was alive. As if I needed convincing.

Thor twisted his side of the device; blue power glowed all around me, and I was whisked away somewhere else.

For as great as I felt in the seconds before the trip to Asgard, I felt like absolute crap when we landed.

Travel through dimensions with the Tesseract is like having every single atom of your entire body pulled apart, stuck into a blender, buzzed around in the chopping blades for a few hours, then poured into a puddle on the ground, where someone stomps on it a few times until the Natalie-smoothie somehow forms back into its original shape. Clearly, this is not a pleasant experience.

The second my feet hit solid ground again, I dropped my end of the Tesseract and placed my hands on my knees, retching. My stomach twisted and churned painfully, my chest felt tight, and my head was pounding. The light made my eyes hurt; and by extension my head. I closed my eyes to tune it out and focused on not tossing my cookies all over the golden halls of Asgard.

"You ok there, Nat?" Tony asked. I glanced up at him. A hand found the back of my shoulder and stayed there; Thor.

"Do you need assistance?" The Asgardian asked. I looked around; I seemed to be the only one who was on the verge of puking.

"I'm fine," I lied, gasping the words out. My entire body felt cold and shaky. "A little warning next time would be great, though," I added. Thor looked almost confused, and I sighed inwardly, my body too wracked by pain to actually go through the motions of sighing _outwardly_.

Stupid superheroes. They don't even get sick right. Made out of sterner stuff then my pathetic, fleshy little body.

I hate my life.

I shuddered, sucking in a deep breath and trying to stabilize the spinning room. Seriously, _how _were the others not affected? I felt like I was about to pass out.

"Do you need some water…?" Steve asked. Even he was standing. Clint and Natasha, purely human, were also still on their own two feet. Grr…

I shook my head quickly, then stopped when that sent my brain throbbing, and the room whipping by me at a thousand miles an hour. "I'm good. Just… give me a second."

It took a good five minutes for me to pull myself together again. Then, slowly, I straightened. "That was fun," I croaked. Tony snickered.

"We keep forgetting about the poor, delicate little Normal in the group," he said, ruffling my hair.

"If you don't remove your hand from my head, I'm going to show you just how _delicate _your finger bones are," I growled at him. He pulled his hand away. My stomach churned, though; hadn't everything that had happened proved to him that I _wasn't _normal anymore? That maybe I could stand on par with him and the other Avengers…?

I pushed the thought away. Bigger fish. I looked around; I was standing in what appeared to be an enormous-though empty- dining hall. The lighting, combined with the shade of the walls, made the place appear to be made of a muted gold; I whistled.

"Impressive," I complimented. Thor smiled at us all.

"Welcome to Asgard," he announced grandly, as a number of guards entered near the front of the room, coming through the doors. I wondered how they knew that we were here in the first place; though we must've made some noise on our arrival. And me retching for a full five minutes probably gave them plenty of time to get here.

They caught sight of Thor and bowed immediately. "Your majesty," one said grandly. Thor dismissed them with an easy gesture, and I shuffled on my feet uncomfortably. Thor seemed to be standing about ten times taller; he was a royal here, after all. I felt suddenly tiny. This place was big, gold, and _on another planet. _The facts hit me like a ton of bricks.

And now I was closer to Loki than ever… I shuddered to think about what that would do to our link; I listened carefully. There was no change; Loki was still hiding in the back of my head. That, at least, was something. I didn't know if I could handle his thoughts competing with my own right now.

I looked around in childlike wonder. How many times had I gone outside and stared at the stars, searching for the constellations in the sky? How many times had I wondered what it would be like to just… run from Earth? To go somewhere shining and new? Granted, I had more practical dreams, but most everyone has their fair share of dreams about other planets. And now I was _here._ On friggin' _Asgard._ Not only another planet, but a _magical _planet as well. Score!

Thor led us onwards; we were stopped on a few occasions, but he assured anyone and everyone who asked that the Avengers and I were his guests. Nerves made my veins buzz a little, my heartbeat fluttery without actually pounding. My mouth went completely dry, too.

We eventually arrived at an extremely ornate, golden door. My heart went into overdrive. Thor turned to us.

"I must explain the situation to my father," he said, his tone fairly grave. "Wait here."

We did as asked as he went into the room. As the door closed behind him, I didn't peek inside; I was too terrified to be curious. This was it. I was meeting the big boss of another whole planet. Odin. Loki's father.

The man who could get him out of my head for good…

I swallowed and looked to the others. Tony was looking pretty confident, and the spies were hiding whatever nervousness they had very well. Bruce was still calm, and Steve simply shifted his weight to his left foot patiently. I walked over to the latter, giving him a nervous smile.

A few minutes later, the golden doors swung outward towards us, opening to reveal a room that more than lived up to the expectations that the door gave it. Huge, magnificent, regal…

I was _so _underdressed.

"Hide me!" I squeaked, barely audibly, ducking behind Steve. He chuckled gently and took my elbow, leading me forwards carefully. My chest felt tight and my stomach seemed to have vanished; it was like the world's worst case of stage fright.

The instant I saw him, however, that all vanished. Evaporated.

Odin sat in the center of the room, on a tall, magnificent throne. He had paper-white hair, and one good eye that shone out, bright even to where I was standing, all the way across the room. The other was covered with a patch. His hands curled around the armrests of the throne, and he sat almost at the edge of his seat, watching us. The way the room was positioned made him tower above us all, and his manner was clearly that of a royal. It would have been horrifically intimidating.

If Loki had not intervened.

Technically, Loki did absolutely nothing. He remained hidden in the back of my head, unspeaking, practically unfeeling. A black abyss of pure… nothing. A wall.

But the instant my eyes locked on Odin, a memory flashed through me. Or, perhaps more accurately, the memory of a memory. I thought back to my very first search in Loki's mind, thought back to the memory that I'd uncovered… when Loki had first learned about his true nature…

I could all but hear his desperate cry in my head. Demanding to know why he'd been taken from Jotunheim, demanding to know what purpose his father had planned for him… That screaming, keening demand as tears formed in his eyes…

_TELL ME!_

I shivered and tried to shake it off. What must it be like, to realize that your whole life was a lie?

And here, standing before me, was the liar.

But I knew better. Loki was so blinded by his hatred that he couldn't see, couldn't understand; Odin had always loved him. _That, _at least, had never been a lie. I could see these things in the vague impressions I'd get from Loki whenever his name was mentioned; even if Loki himself could no longer recognize it.

And, as I stood there, the nerves calmed a little. It was similar to when I'd first seen Thor; though I did not have all of the memories of Loki's life with the man, I still had almost all of the feelings behind them. It was hard to distinguish the difference now, between how I felt and how Loki felt. Our thoughts and feelings were blended together, making it almost impossible to tell them apart.

As Thor gestured to the other Avengers, they knelt in front of Odin; Steve seemed very uncomfortable with the idea, so he half-bowed. I did the same; no way in hell was I kneeling. This man was a king, sure, but not of _my_ world. I was an earth girl all the way. We _elect _our leaders, thank you very much.

Beyond that, it just felt weird. First, because I knew him so well; and from a family member's perspective. It's common knowledge that your family knows some serious shit about you; things that you do _not _want out in the street. The stories I could tell…

Plus. He'd made Loki's life miserable. Not intentionally, I was sure, but I knew how Loki felt about the matter. _(You want the crown? You want it? All right… roll over! Fetch! Play dead! Good boy! Now watch as I hand it over to Thor, because you're a Frost Giant freak!)_

Eesh. Royals.

Thor cleared his throat; he didn't seem to know what to think of Steve's and my half-bows, though Odin did not seem to mind. His good eye was trained solely on me; not in a hostile way, but I could tell he'd guessed which one of us had his son in their brain.

"Father, this is Tony Stark," Thor started, then traveled down the line, introducing us one by one. I waited patiently for my turn, and though Odin looked to each one in turn- they all nodded, or, in Tony's case, waved- his gaze invariably returned to me. I shivered under his scrutiny.

"And this is Natalie Frost," Thor finished. I nodded respectfully and clasped my hands behind my back so that I could wring them out without anyone noticing. I was getting nervous again. "The one I spoke with you about," Thor added.

Oh, peachy. I wondered if the link was the only thing that had been mentioned.

Odin nodded at all of us; a slow, graceful gesture. Everything about the man radiated pure power. "Greetings," he said, his voice kind. Benign. Loki was curiously quiet, not watching at all. I wondered if he was too afraid to watch.

"It grieves me to hear that my son has been wreaking havoc once again," he said, and there was just the slightest strain on the word 'son'. I couldn't stop my eyes from narrowing a little in curiosity. Damn Shrink-Sense. Always going off at the worst times. "You have my sincerest regrets." Odin continued.

See, this was the difference between one Asgardian attacking another realm, like Jotunheim, and attacking Midguard. We don't freak out and declare war on your entire planet; mostly because a single Asgardian is enough, thank you very much. Natasha nodded deeply, obviously intending to be the mouthpiece for the group. I'd have pegged the Captain with that role, but then, Natasha was a _bit _more experienced with diplomatic matters.

"Thank you," She said, her voice very cool and clear. I gave her a sideways glance; this was a slightly kinder Natasha than the one I knew. "However, our only intent is to right the wrong. Once this has been finished, or if answers can not be found here, we will be on our way."

Odin nodded in return. "You will have the best that Asgardian hospitality has to offer," he reassured her. I lifted an eyebrow. They were talking like diplomats. Politicians. Seriously, when did _I _get involved in the politics of Asgardian-Human relations? It was enough to make me throw my head into the wall, grab someone by the collar and scream, "_I'm just the fricking Pizza Girl! I didn't sign up for this shit!"_

Fortunately for us all, I kept my cool. It wasn't easy, though. Odin's eye turned back to me. "May I speak with you in private, Lady Frost?"

I suppressed a grin. Really? Lady Frost? Whatever, I wasn't going to complain. But seeing the serious look on his face, I swallowed and nodded.

Well, this was it. No big deal, I was just about to have another medieval freak in my head, been there done that, right? Thor gave me a reassuring half-nod, and I took a few steps forwards. He lead the other Avengers away; they had very clearly been dismissed. Steve gently squeezed my shoulder. "Don't worry, Natalie," he whispered. "You'll be fine."

I nodded, a bit breathless. My heart was hammering now. I wasn't so intimidated by Odin himself, but the very idea of a third person getting crammed into my head, even if it was only long enough to sever the link, was a bit too much for me. That was what I assumed would happen, anyway; I didn't really see another way for it to work.

The Avengers left, some still giving me worried glances as the door closed behind them. Tony gave me a wild grin and a huge thumbs-up as he went, and had I not been in front of the ruler of an entire planet, I'm fairly certain I would've flashed him a hand signal of my own.

I looked back to Odin, who watched the Avengers' exit, then half-turned to face me. He stood and bridged the distance between us, walking down the steps that lead to the throne and onto flat ground, standing only a few footsteps away from me.

Ok. This was no big deal.

Odin did not allow the silence between us to last for long. "I apologize for all the grief that Loki has caused you," he said. "Had I known, it would never have been allowed to happen."

Did everyone have to keep apologizing? Seriously, it was getting old. Loki screwed up, I got it, can we move on with our lives?

But my response was a little kinder then that. "I'm sure it wouldn't have," I said in a soft tone.

Odin watched me carefully. "I understand that Thor has promised that I will do everything in my power to destroy this connection between you and Loki. However, I must warn you; even if I succeed, the process can be… damaging."

Ooh. Thunder-Boy didn't tell me _that _one. "Damaging how?" I asked, trying to keep the suspicion from my words. I had to be political, after all. _We _might not start war over the little things, but the Asgardians certainly could.

He considered his words for only the briefest of moments; in fact, if I had known absolutely nothing about the man, I wouldn't have even noticed it. His words were all packed with authority; there could be no hesitation. Ever. "Magic is not like Midguardian science. It is… temperamental. Unruly. And it is unique to every individual; crafted by their personality, their strengths and their weaknesses."

I thought that over, gnawing on the inside of my cheek. "So your abilities will be different from his," I concluded.

"Yes," his answer was solemn.

"And these abilities will fight each other; naturally repelling each other," I went on; I couldn't believe that I understood this so easily, with no prior explanation. I attributed it to Loki's influence and kept talking. "Like magnets. When it comes to a mental connection, the power on either side will fight each other. Its impossible to stop this from happening; it's pure instinct." My eyes widened in realization; Loki was explaining none of this to me, but somehow I just… knew. "That's why an Asgardian to Asgardian connection is next to impossible. Why it's easier to make a connection with a… simpler mind; the mind of a mortal. A mind without magic." The words came quick, fast, like I was back in school, reciting everything for the teacher as fast as I could before my brain blanked out all the facts; like it would in every test. And this _was_ a test; one, I felt, that I could not fail.

"Basically," I finished, "Your magical abilities are next to useless in my head. Strength means very little; you're not battling with magic, or with physical strength. You're battling with your mind alone. A test of wills, if you'd like, but not even that comes close. The magic that binds two people together in the way that Loki has is intensely powerful; and intensely personal. It isn't about _you_; it's about _me_, and it's about _Loki_. Mind links can rarely be broken by any but the ones directly involved."

Odin seemed surprised by my knowledge of the matter, but he quelled it extremely quickly, simply listening to my little explanation. Finally, as my words died off, he looked to me.

"He has taught you much on the subject," he said carefully.

I shuffled. Now that the flood of information had stopped, I was feeling awkward again. Loki hadn't meant to let me know all of that, I was sure of it. It was as though I'd always known about that stuff, but I just never really thought about it before. Background knowledge that wasn't brought to the surface until someone asked the right questions. "Not intentionally," I answered, wringing my hands out a little. Then, because I was desperate to remain polite and political, I added, "Sir."

Odin considered this. "So you are aware of the risks?"

I was aware enough. I thought on everything 'I' knew about the link, then nodded slowly. "Yes."

"And you are prepared to go through with this, in spite of this knowledge?"

"I have to try," I answered, but my words were a bit weaker than I'd have liked. I cleared my throat a little. "Can I just… have a moment?" I asked, my voice suddenly very quiet. "Please?" I added. Political, political, political… polite little Lady Frost. I was representing the entirety of earth, here.

"Of course," Odin answered. I closed my eyes, taking a shaky breath.

_Well, this is it_, I called across the void that Loki had set up between us. _Any last goodbyes?_

I heard him sniff haughtily, felt his consciousness pressing against mine. _No need for such theatrics, Natalie. You know as well as I do that this has a very slim chance of succeeding. _

I swallowed painfully. _And if it __**does?**_

He did not respond. My eyes opened again, so that I was once again looking at Odin. I pulled myself together as best I could, smoothing out my shirt. Screw it. I was never a very 'political' person, anyway. "When this is all over," I asked, not bothering to temper my slightly bitter tone, "What happens to him? To Loki?"

Odin looked oh-so-slightly taken aback by this form of questioning, but he answered. "He shall remain where he is; imprisoned. Unable to harm you any longer."

My hands tightened in fists at my side. Loki watched, curious to see what reaction his 'father' would have to my next statement. "That isn't what I mean," I said, and fought the desperate urge to add, _and you know it, old man_. Loki's bitterness was infiltrating my own anger; I reigned it in as best I could.

"In all of history," I held up two fingers, "Only _two_ links of this caliber have been broken in this manner successfully, with all three of those involved surviving unscathed. _Two_. Only twenty-one links total have ever been broken by an outside source; which means that of those, _nineteen_ have had casualties. Of those nineteen, _twelve_ of the casualties have been the person who created the link. _Five_ have been the ones they linked themselves to, and _two_ have been the one trying to interfere and break the link. Now, math and I have been waging eternal war on each other for a long time now, but I think those odds are pretty clear. And definitely not in Loki's favor." I folded my arms across my chest. I was pretty impressed by my own ability to list off the numbers that rattled around in the back of my head; usually I'd stutter and stumble about them. I kept my gaze level with Odin's.

"There is every possibility that, even if you manage to sever this link, Loki will die." I concluded.

There was a lot of pain and sadness in the man's eyes; pain and sadness that Loki did not see. For all of his observance, for all of his watching, his calculating… all he saw was an old man's deliberation. None of a father's pain.

_Stop being so blind_, I growled at him, trying to project my own view of the situation to him. He all but ignored me. Little pest.

"This is true," Odin acknowledged, his voice very slightly quieter.

I stood a little taller. Ok, this was less than polite. But I couldn't tiptoe around this one; it was way too important for that. "I don't want it coming down to that," I said firmly. I sensed Loki's eyebrow lifting, but pushed through it. "We can try to break the link. We can try and get him out. But I do _not _want it to _kill _him. If he has to stay in my head, or if I have to live with him for the rest of my life, whatever. I'll deal with it. But he _can't die."_

There was silence for a beat. I swallowed. I was now under the watchful gaze of two Asgardians, both surprised by my insistence on this issue. But I stood tall, kept my spine straight and stiff. Might as well make my views on the matter clear immediately. Whatever happened next, one way or another the guy was going to be in my brain, battling it out with Loki; he'd find out about my reasoning soon enough.

Slowly, ever-so-slowly, Odin nodded. "Very well, Lady Frost," he said in a quiet voice. Had Loki not been involved, I would not have detected the slight waver, wouldn't have seen how broken his words were. It seemed odd to me, that Loki _saw _these things, that he was _aware _of them, but he just… dismissed them. As though they didn't matter. I sighed inwardly.

_Good luck, _I whispered to Loki. I wasn't sure why I was wishing _him _luck; to do so would be counter-productive. But he chuckled.

_And you._

I looked to Odin. "I guess… I guess I'm ready."

* * *

What followed this conversation was perhaps the single weirdest experience of my life. And I've been through some doozies.

Once we established everything that I needed to do, Odin had sent a messenger to the Avengers that we would be working on this, and that it could take a very long time. They were to make themselves comfortable, relax, yadda yadda yadda. Thor was supposed to show them around Asgard. And we were not to be disturbed; I knew from experience that the slightest distraction could mean the difference between failure and success.

Once everything started, however… well, that's when things got seriously freaky.

Odin's presence in my head split the three of us entirely; every emotion, every thought, every memory… there was no longer any confusion about who was thinking-or feeling- what. I knew which thoughts were Odin's, which were Loki's, and which were mine; which was really great and really unnerving all at the same time. I was _used _to our brains being a bit confused. But now, I could just _sense _who was who. Each thought, each feeling, had a certain… aura about them.

Imagine a block of ice; a frozen glacier in the middle of an ocean. Imagine that it's midnight, and the glacier is completely and utterly black. Little shafts of silver moonlight dance over the crystalline surface. All thoughts, feelings, or emotions that picture stirred inside me… _that _was what I sensed whenever I came close to one of Loki's thoughts. One of his memories. A picture didn't randomly flash in my brain, warning me away, but… the feeling in my chest was the same as though I was actually looking at that black ice. It was… different. Definitely different.

Odin's thoughts were just as easy to distinguish; though for different reasons. It was like reading an old book, with the smell of the dusty pages, the idea that there was knowledge to be gained by reading it, ancient knowledge that no one else knows… No, I wasn't actually reading. No, I could not smell the dusty pages of an old book. That was just how it _felt, _any time that I came close to one of Odin's thoughts.

I vaguely wondered what my thoughts must be like, and shuddered a little. Best not to know.

Following this complete separation-in which it seemed as though a large part of me had been ripped out- Odin and Loki wasted no time. The battle over my little mortal brain began.

I won't lie to you. It hurt. It hurt like hell.

The two clashed almost immediately; I tried to shrink away into the farthest corner of my mind, but pain spiked through me anyway. I tried to pull myself away from the battle.

But really, it wasn't in my nature.

After a long moment, in which Loki and Odin fought viciously, I threw myself against the black wall that Odin was attacking. It singed my thoughts like fire, but I pushed against it anyway. I'd fought Loki before. I'd fought him, and I'd beat him.

Odin was startled by this new realization-that I had once beat his son at his own game- but he allowed me to step into the fray. Loki, however, knew all the right buttons to push; and this time he didn't hesitate before pulling out the big guns.

It wasn't long before I was watching myself slaughter my father again and again. Before April's limp corpse fell to the ground at my feet. Before these illusions and dreams started to seem like cold, hard reality…

I pushed them aside, and Odin helped. It was easier, I knew, for those directly involved in the mental link to fight it. Odin was almost a bystander; though he fought valiantly, and pretty incredibly, when it came right down to it, this fight wasn't _about _him. It was about his son. It was about me.

Basically, he was just helping me out. And I worked with that; I threw myself at the walls, pulling no punches. Loki fought back. Fire flooded my head and shadows swept through my veins; I gritted my teeth. That was probably the worst part of it: the pain.

Now, here's the thing; this fight wasn't like any of our others. Before, it was just about one fact. One memory. One little truth. What stood before me now was another challenge entirely; I had to completely remove his mind from mine. Each of those thousands upon thousands of memories had to go. Loki himself _had to go. _

Our earlier fights took seconds, maybe minutes.

This took hours.

Hours of pain. Hours of battle. Hours of Odin trying to push Loki out, hours of me doing the same. Memory upon memory, feeling upon feeling, all thrown against one another. Loki's hatred for Odin. Odin's desperate wish that Loki would realize, one day, that he loved him. My own hatred towards our situation, and the very fact that Loki and I had to be enemies. These thoughts raged about like windstorms, a tornado of emotion, thundering clouds of pain.

Agony rippled through me, and my heart was pounding again. But the bubble stayed hidden, stayed away. Still, it gave me ideas; I tried to throw my fear about what Loki intended to do with the bubble towards the Norse god of mischief; he all but ignored it. In response, I felt my head start searing with white-hot pain; tears sprang to my eyes, but my feet remained rooted. I remained standing.

Odin fought better than I ever could; but it still wasn't enough. I could all but feel his pain as well. I could identify it as _his, _and I knew that he was suffering. Things weren't going so well for him, either.

Loki was trying to hide it, but I could sense that he, too, was in horrific pain. That was the nature of this link; all it seemed to do was cause anguish. The fight raged on, and my hands tightened in fists. Cold-yet-beautiful light battered at the wall of black fire as Odin's thoughts fought with Loki's, striking again and again.

After the first few hours, though, I started to notice something interesting. As all of our barriers weakened, as the battle began to take its toll… Loki grew afraid. It was subtle. It was barely noticeable; Odin couldn't even tell. But it was definitely there. I only realized it because my thoughts had been so intertwined with his previously; otherwise, I would have been blind.

It wasn't fear that he'd be removed from my mind. He was coldly certain that he was going to win this battle. This was different. His only fear was that his secrets would be revealed. Secrets that had absolutely nothing to do with this battle, secrets that had nothing to do with me, or Odin, or with anyone else. Secrets that had only to do with him and his pride.

Secrets like the name of the Asgardian who had smacked his face in.

Secrets like the fact that he'd even been beaten up in the first place.

I realized with shock that these secrets were very close to me; almost in my grasp. But at the moment, I was just curious as to why Odin didn't know that Loki had been beaten up in the first place. Surely he would have seen the bruises…?

A quick scope through the memories on both sides- an unnoticed scouting trip, given everything else that was going on- showed me what everyone else believed. My eyes widened.

_An escape attempt? _I asked Loki, keeping Odin firmly clamped out without his knowledge. _They think you tried to escape?_

Loki didn't give me a proper response; but a flash of images and sounds ran through my head. Realization hit me in the face like ice water; they didn't _think _he'd tried to escape. He _had _tried to escape. He'd seen a breech in their security, and he'd made a run for it. He'd almost succeeded, too. The bruises, it was claimed, came from an Asgardian guard who had tried to stop him. The injuries, supposedly, were the result of self-defense; and the only possible way to force Loki back into the prison that he now called home.

But Loki and I knew differently.

As I battled against the black wall, against the twisting shadows that made up Loki's mind, I swallowed. It made perfect sense. Loki had 'tried to run away'. He'd been stopped, been caught. There was a perfect excuse for a number of injuries; so who would question it when a few more appeared?

My gut twisting, I threw up my own wall, yanking the memory behind it. Odin didn't need to see this. No one needed to see this. Not even me. I'd get it out of him later if I had to; but this was him at his weakest. To use a memory like this against him… it would be devastating to him. I couldn't allow it. If we couldn't win this war without crossing lines, then I didn't want to win it at all.

Loki was completely stunned by this decision, but he did not remark on it. He didn't dare; that might've called unwanted attention towards my action. I threw myself at the battle that much harder, trying to fight, trying to scorch out my head and burn him out. This was Loki's weakest moment; the only one that his father knew nothing about. All of his other times of weakness had been Odin's fault in the first place. Loki had to have this time. Had to keep it hidden. He had to feel as if there was one thing in his life that could be kept secret from this man; one moment of pain that was his and his alone; not Odin's, not Thor's, not mine. Just his.

How humiliating must it have been, to be reduced to such a pathetic state? Imprisoned, alone, with someone beating him repeatedly? Not wanting to cry out for help, not sure if anyone would even bother to listen…

Odin didn't need to see that. Because Loki couldn't bear to show him.

We all kept fighting; and Loki still fought as hard as ever to stay in my brain. I had not expected any kind of sympathy in turn for what I had done; I don't do things for sympathy. I do them because I _do _have a sense of honor, thank you very much.

As ice froze out my heart, my entire body started to grow numb to the screaming, raging anguish. Odin's side of the fight seemed to grow stronger; and I felt myself growing weaker. I was having a hard enough time protecting my own memories without protecting Loki's as well; though keeping people out of my past experiences wasn't high on my priorities list. I wavered, weakening, but the bonds on Loki's hidden thought remained strong. With both Loki's and my strength combined… nothing could get through. No outside source could stop us once we agreed to do something _together_. That was an unnerving feeling, to know that we were stronger together than we could ever be separate, but I let it slide.

The mental shields around my past started to weaken, to buckle beneath the strain. I could not afford to keep them up while I fought this war, to hide my past while protecting my present as well. I let these walls drop, let my mind become an open book for anyone who would search through it while I fought against Loki, while I battled to get him out.

But then… something unexpected happened. Slowly, carefully, a shadow of a wall began to form around particular memory of mine.

But the wall was not part of _my _defenses.

I checked the memory. It was the one time when I'd thrown Loki's past in his face. The first-the only- time that I crossed lines. When I'd first realized what Odin had done to him. An air-tight defense formed around something I had once said: _"Both of you were born to be kings? __How did it feel, when you found out what a load of __**bullshit**__ that really was?"_

If Odin heard that… it would cause him a lot of pain. But I suspected that was _not _why Loki was helping me hide it.

If Odin heard me using his words against Loki… Well, it was one of _my _weakest moments. The only one that could be hidden without being noticed. If Loki hid anything about my father, it would be noticed. If he hid something about the Avengers, it _definitely _would be noticed. But it was one of the few times that I'd proved my father right; proved that I was capable of monstrous things. Of saying horrible, cruel things, things that cut and sliced and tore people apart. It was not a moment that I was proud of. And it had nothing to do with the battle at hand.

In short, Loki was returning the favor.

He was not without honor, either.

I fought a small smile and kept fighting. There was no relenting on either side; Loki and I were still fighting with all the strength and fury we could muster. These shared secrets did nothing to hinder our battle; we were both determined to win. It did not matter that we had helped each other, did not matter that we were keeping each others secrets. We were going to win, one way or another, or we were going to bring ourselves to the point of death trying.

A few more hours passed, and it began to seem as though that was _exactly _what we were going to have to do. The light inside Asgard remained the same, so that I was unsure of exactly how much time went by, but I could tell it was quite a while. The exhaustion was bleeding through from all three of us. I was so tired of the pain, but I was almost used to it by that point, ignoring the rolling waves of ice, fire and shadows that ran through my blood. I could barely fight anymore; had I been by myself, I probably would've called it quits ages ago. But I had to keep fighting; after all, Odin still was. And Loki still was, the bastard.

But that's when everything went horrifically wrong. And not just wrong. _Horrifically _wrong.

Because that's when Loki won.

One memory. That was all it took. One feeling, after hours upon hours of fighting. The proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. Loki's anger had been smoldering in the back of his head, growing slightly with every thought his father projected; every feeling of love or affection that he had ever shown.

I could feel it; oh, I could easily identify it as _Loki's _anger, but from time to time I could feel it as my own… And it was devastating. The rage that built up in his heart, the bloodlust… I could sense it. _(You claim to love me, you tell me these lies, you pretend like you cared… but you always loved __**him **__more. I have seen it, in every day that I have lived. It was always him. It was always Thor.)_

And then it hit. Odin tried to _force _him to feel what he had felt; the way I had forced Loki to feel my anger towards our situation. And Loki snapped.

If I thought he was powerful before, it was nothing compared to _this. _The link was not Odin's; it was ours. And so Odin could not use it to its full strength. But Loki could.

_**ENOUGH!**_ He screamed, and a single memory took control; a singular, solitary feeling that swamped out all others, that forced away all fear and anger, all love and hate, all mercy and compassion. Loki's memory nullified all others; Odin's, mine… for a second it was as though our whole lives had just… vanished.

In their place was the hollow, echoing sound of a cry that Loki had once screamed out, holding on for dear life over the dark, empty void of space. The words rang in my ears. _"I could have done it, father! For you! For all of us!"_

My heart stopped as Odin's response echoed; not just in my ears, but down in every fiber of my being. My very core shook and trembled with the answer, and I felt things shatter in the darkest depths of my heart.

"_No, Loki."_

Two words. Two words that ruined his life forever. He had declared his allegiance. He had declared who he was, who he wished to be. And, in his own mind, he had been rejected. Entirely. Utterly.

Forever.

_Do not claim to __**love me,**_Loki's voice snarled through both Odin and myself, reverberating through our minds despite how his words were only meant for him. _Do not pretend that you believe I have the chance to do something __**good **__in my life, simply by letting this mortal go…_

That's when I saw it. The death blow was coming. Darkness swirled around in Loki's head, shadows and death in every thought he had. Loki always tore himself apart over this dilemma; whether he wanted his father's death, or his approval. I knew the feeling. I'd been there before.

But now, it seemed, he had chosen. I felt rippling shockwaves through my nerves, my heartbeat starting to turn rapid. I began to shake with the pure power that flowed through Loki; and then to tremble as I realized that power was being drawn from _me. _Our link was strengthening him. Our minds had all but become one; a single force. And Odin's mind was like a parasite, a disease; our link wanted to force it out, wanted to remove it.

Odin did not seem afraid by this turn of events; merely very, very… hurt. Sad. Broken.

Loki hovered over his father, ready to deliver the final blow… I closed my eyes tightly, but that did nothing, this war was in my mind, not my sight…

_**NO! No more! Enough is ENOUGH! **_My every muscle stiffened, locked into place. I stood tall, my resolve gathering together, pulling the power back, pulling it away from Loki. My words cracked out in the darkness like a whip, fire exploding away from each barbed, cutting word. I tasted blood in my mouth, my real-world vision turning crimson while my mental vision filled with bright, orange light and dancing shadows. I threw myself in between the two Asgardians, pulling away all of the energy behind Loki's death blow. This link went two ways. Not just one. It was as much mine to command as it was his.

_**LOKI! **_I ordered. _**Stand down. NOW!**_

The words rippled through all three of us, reverberated through our bones, trembling bass notes that sent our ribs vibrating. To all of our surprise, Loki obeyed; the power behind his planned blow slipped from his grasp, and I could sense his real self stumbling backwards. My hands clenched at my sides.

I started to walk forwards. What I was walking towards, I did not know; but it felt as though, with each step, I was closer to Loki, until I was all but in his face. And yet, he was no where near me. It was strange, but I went with it.

_If you knew… _I said slowly, dangerously. Agonizingly. _If you knew, for just one __**second… **__what it is to have a father who truly… truly __**hates**__ you? You would go crawling back to your father on your hands and knees. You have __**no **__idea what that hatred does to you! How it tears you up inside!_

There was just the slightest twinge of fear from Loki; though I noticed, somewhere in a far corner of my mind, somewhere far away from this battle, that the two of us were still keeping each others secrets. Still holding up the defenses on the private thoughts that we had sworn to protect without saying a word.

_So I think it's time you found out,_ I growled.

I focused on the last words my father ever said to my mother; I let them echo and resound through all the minds involved. _Can't you see that it's a __**monster**__?_

But I took it even further than that. It wasn't just about words or thoughts, or him 'understanding' what I felt. I made him _feel _it. He felt the exact pain I had, felt the exact agony. Loki choked; I could almost see him, trying to catch his breath. But through making Loki feel that pain, _I _felt it all over again. My heart stuttered. Ached.

I fell back a bit, woozy and disoriented. I had not originated the link. Though it gave me abilities over Loki that I wouldn't otherwise have, he was still stronger than me. Once he pulled himself together again… the battle would be over. I could not stand against him like this again.

So, instead, I sighed heavily. _We're done, _I told Odin. Giving up. That's what it felt like. Even though I had partially won, Loki still remained. And I knew there was nothing I could do about it. _Thank you, _I added.

Odin agreed quietly and vanished from my head; taking with him every influence he had. The separation of our emotions vanished, so that it became a confusing jumble again. Odin's memories and emotions disappeared. There was just the two of us, here again. Just as there had always been.

And now, it seemed, just as there always would be.

I released the wall I'd built around his secret, and he released the wall he'd built around mine. I could sense his hostility radiating towards me. I had all but humiliated him. I had all but beaten him. I was just a mortal, he was an immortal. It should not have been possible.

_Magic is temperamental, _I whispered coolly to Loki. _You never know who will find its favor._

_Magic is silent,_ He countered._ You never know when it will strike._

And then he pulled himself away, hid himself from my thoughts again. I was too weak to try and stop it, too weary from our battle to try and speak to him. I opened my eyes and looked to Odin; there was a softness in his eyes that had not been there when we had first met. He knew that I cared for his son. He knew that I wanted to help- not hurt- Loki.

But we both knew what caring for him meant. We both knew that it would never be received. And we both knew that, in the end… it only destroyed us all.


	13. Let's Get Real

**A/N: Again, so many, _many _thanks to my readers/reviewers. **

Despite my semi-victory against the Norse god of Mischief, my battle with Loki had left me totally drained. I staggered a bit as I entered the room, tripping over my own two feet in my exhaustion. Immediately, six pairs of eyes turned to me. Expectant. Waiting. My heart plunged to my toes.

"Well?" Tony asked immediately, his foot tapping out an impatient rhythm on the carpet. "Did it work?"

I gazed around at him, and at the other Avengers. They all looked… excited. Tense.

And, I hated to say, a little bit desperate. It was everything I would've felt, if I were them. Everything I would've felt if I hadn't known the things I did beforehand. My stomach felt hollow. They had hope. I didn't want to take that away from them.

Thor seemed to notice my hesitation, and his face fell. I couldn't look at him- at _any _of them- as I responded, "No."

There was silence for a beat. Then Steve came up next to me, placing a hand on my shoulder, trying to look me in the eye. I kept my gaze on the ground. "I'm really sorry, Natalie."

"S'all right. It was a long shot, anyway."

"You'll get him out soon enough," Banner said reassuringly. Lying. But that was ok; I needed a few lies right now.

"I know," I lied in return, cradling my arms close to my body. "Look, guys… I just…" I pressed my fingers into my forehead. "I don't really want to talk about it right now. I'm kind of… exhausted."

"She will need to rest," Thor agreed with me immediately. "I will have quarters prepared for her; and for you all." He swept out of the room before anyone could agree or disagree. I'd expected as much, anyway; there was no way in hell I could talk to Loki face-to-face right now. It was too late for that; and I was so worn out I could barely stand, let alone have a heart-to-heart with an Asgardian. I figured they'd let us stay overnight, at least.

The others didn't seem so surprised, either; so they'd either figured it out for themselves, or Thor had discussed it with them. I looked around the room, wondering what they had done for the past few hours, given the fact that they were all in one place with no books, TV, video games, gym… nothing. Maybe they had a meeting. One can hope.

Following my grim announcement, the Avengers started talking over what was next. I tuned them out. My head was relatively quiet right now; I took advantage of that and slouched into one of the nearby pieces of furniture- I was too tired to even bother to see what the heck it was- until Thor returned for us.

He lead us to a large hallway, with beautiful golden-and-silver doors on either side, each leading into a lavish room. There was, thankfully, enough for each of us to have our own rooms, though Tony insisted frequently that he wouldn't mind bunking with some people, giving me and Natasha a roguish wink. He shut up when the two of us gave him death glares. Hers was far more impressive than mine.

I didn't bother to really talk to any of them; I just thanked Thor quietly, went into my room, and collapsed on the bed. It was a bit too soft and plush for my liking, but I didn't really care that much at that point.

Just as I was drifting off, worries about nightmares plagued me. I didn't think I could handle that; I didn't think _either _of us could handle that. I called out to Loki quickly, _Truce? _

He didn't reply for a long time; and if he ever did, I didn't hear it. In moments, I was completely dead to the world.

Thankfully, I did not dream. The battle, it seemed, had sucked the fight right out of both of us. But when I woke up the next morning, I felt a lot better. More energized. A huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders; I no longer had to worry about Odin removing the link, no longer had to wonder if it could just be possible. I knew it wasn't; until the day that Loki and I agreed to sever all ties with each other, or until one of us died, I wouldn't be free of him. But just… _knowing, _once and for all, that this was the case? It was almost a relief.

We were all given new clothing; which made Tony howl with laughter when I came out wearing a dress. I pointed and laughed in return; he looked no better, wearing black clothing beneath a metal breastplate and simple armor. Like I'd seen most of the men here wearing. Natasha seemed less than happy about the dress (though I thought I saw Clint's eyes straining not to look for too long…), and the two of us bargained until we were given similar clothing to the guys'. I'd seen one or two women here with armor like that. It was no biggie.

Despite how much heavier these clothes were, I was glad to have it; and it felt a lot better than the dress. I'm the type of person who needs to be ready for a brawl; and I'm not as talented at kicking people's asses in a dress. Not like Natasha apparently was. Superheroes. What the hell _can't_ they do?

There was breakfast in the dining hall, with some of the weirdest food I've ever eaten in my life. Well, I call it 'breakfast'. It was more like a 'feast'. I did my best not to keep silent, chatting with Steve and trying to pull Clint in on the conversation from time to time. And, of course, swapping insults with Tony (something that was taken relatively well by the Asgardians in the group, who looked at us a bit bemusedly at first, then started to regard us as the entertainment and listened closely). I refused to stay quiet after what Steve had said the other day; about how I was turning to Loki before any of the others. Right now, any silence could be perceived as talking with him.

Thor toasted the Avengers about halfway through; which lead me to realize that their arrival here was something of a celebration despite the circumstances. Their personalities clashed on frequent occasions, and they didn't always agree… But when it came right down to it, the Avengers were friends. All of them. For crying out loud, they prevented the end of the world together. That's gotta bring people closer.

I also noted, during the toast, that my name was not mentioned.

_Keep it together, Frost._ I thought to myself, taking a deep breath. _You're in Asgard. Be happy. _

I kept up the smile. I kept laughing. Making jokes. _("There is no coffee in this place! How do you people __**survive?"**__)_

Loki remained moodily silent, brooding as I ate breakfast. And quieter still when I remained behind to talk with everyone; including some Asgardians. I ignored him; he was pissed at me, but what else was new? When it boiled down to it, we were enemies. We were going to clash from time to time. If he couldn't handle losing, then he shouldn't have started this war in the first place.

I delayed the inevitable; Thor seemed quite content to let me just talk and lounge around the palace with everyone else before I went to talk with Loki. I wanted to see him. I did. But just… not yet. I couldn't handle it yet. I'd spent a whole day with him yesterday, spent a whole day fighting him. But no one complained; even the Avengers seemed content to stay here. We were on _Asgard_; we might as well make a vacation of it. We'd been cooped up in that Tower for way too long.

We all took a tour of the palace; for the Avengers, it was more of a second tour, but they didn't seem to mind. And for me, well… it was really strange, seeing the places where Thor and Loki grew up; seeing it from the eyes of someone who knew all of the nooks and crannies, all of the little hidden places that children know and love. Thor and I actually talked about it for quite a while, repeating stories of the things the two used to do, those silly, quirky little things that kids do for fun. It was a little hard for me to keep my pronouns straight; I kept wanting to say 'and then _I _did this' instead of 'and then _he_ did this'. So _that_ got sufficiently awkward. Stupid mind link.

We watched a few of the children training to become warriors, to be fighters. Kids of higher-class families, I supposed. I wondered what the less privileged areas of Asgard were like; what this planet was like when you weren't hanging around the palace.

But these children were pretty vicious; they clearly worked hard to get where they were in their training. I watched the mock-battles for a long time, trying to think of how to duplicate their steps in my head. I was missing out on my own training, being here, but I didn't mind so much. I'd gotten a lot better in the time since I started; Clint and Natasha were decent teachers.

My only problem was the nanos. Keeping them in line was a lot harder than it looked. Banner did his best to help me, of course, and he was a decent teacher as well, but the bots almost had a mind of their own. They did what they wanted. They boosted my immune system, they made me a little stronger on occasion… but for the most part, they were a whole lot of useless.

"Natalie!"

I looked down from where I sat on the stone 'bleachers' that surrounded the training area. It had been set up so that people could watch; parents could watch their kids, or people interested in fighting techniques could observe the instructors. So that's what they did for entertainment. Good to know.

Clint was beckoning me from a point lower down on the stone steps; I frowned, but stood and followed him. The two of us went down into the center of the arena; my ears started to burn. The instructors didn't seem to notice or care about us. The students were too involved in their own performances to worry about us. But the crowd seemed glued to our movements, curious as to what two mortals were doing in their arena, beside _their _children.

Clint walked over to a table with a large group of weapons; spaced a fair distance away from the battling kids/teenagers. He selected two knives and walked back to me, handing me one.

I lifted an eyebrow. "Are you sure we can do this?"

He nodded. "I asked Thor." He twirled the knife in his fingers. Hand-to-hand combat was not Clint's strongest suit, but he was a whole lot better than I was. "Attack me."

I sighed. I should've known that a trip to Asgard wouldn't get me out of my training. But inwardly, I was smiling. At least Clint was reliable. I gripped my knife tightly, in the way that Natasha had always shown me; a way that had become so natural to me that the knife seemed to fit to my hand like a glove.

I hesitated, then lunged towards Clint; he dodged easily, gripping my arm and pulling me forwards, using my momentum against me. He pulled me closer to him, stopping only when his knife tip was seconds away from my stomach.

"What have I told you?" he scolded. "Not so much force on one swing. You've got to keep your movements controlled."

"Right," I acknowledged. He released me, and I twisted the blade. "Are you sure we should be doing this with real metal?" I inquired; not for the first time. He shrugged. He never gave me a real answer to that one.

I glanced upwards at the other Avengers; they were watching from high up on the stone steps, looking bemused. I flushed; this was easier when it was just me and the spies. They already thought I was hopelessly incompetent. These training sessions just confirmed what they already knew. But the others weren't like that.

Oh, well. I gripped the knife a little tighter and focused. Clint got ready. I half-lunged, then skipped backwards as he came forwards to pull the same trick. I danced to the side and made to strike again; too late, Clint was ready for me.

I continued to get my ass kicked for a decent half hour; then Clint had me switch to defense, relinquishing me of my blade and having me try to disarm him. It was _not _easy, let me tell you. But he went through move after move with me, over and over again, until my head started to hurt and I tried to call it quits. 'Tried' being the operative word, here. Clint just switched back to teaching me offense.

The audience got pretty bored with us after a while; immortals offered a better show than we did, I supposed. But the other Avengers cheered me on; or, Tony and Thor did. In fact, at one point, Thor seemed a little frustrated by my inability to get a good blow on Clint, so after a while, he joined the two of us, giving me tips and pointers as we went on. It helped, actually, though it seemed to slightly irritate Barton. Oh well, can't win 'em all.

A small number of the crowd was focused on our battle as well, though; I could hear their expectant gasps as Clint almost struck me in the throat, or their appreciative murmuring when I came _that close_ to breeching his defenses. But Big Bird was relentless, ignoring our tiny audience entirely and focusing solely on me.

By the time we finished, I was sweaty and tired, but I felt a lot better. It was good to be working on something that I _knew _I'd get better at; as opposed to just fighting a futile war, as I seemed to be doing with my mental link.

As the seven of us returned inside, Steve patted me on the back. "Nice job," he said amicably. I gave him a little smile as Natasha nodded tightly in agreement.

We headed into the palace, walking around. I'm not sure anyone really knew where we were going, but we were all content to let someone else lead the way. Everyone was deep in discussion with someone else, talking and laughing, chatting over the little details in life. I stayed quiet but smiled at them all, a little worn out by my mock-fighting.

We walked past a guard; this wasn't an uncommon sight. A lot of people stood sentry in these halls, standing stock-still, unmoving, barely blinking. They all looked pretty impressive in their armor and shields, their enormous swords or spears or axes held clasped tightly in their hands.

But this one in particular was different. I was smiling, laughing at a joke Tony made, when suddenly my eyes caught his. The smile faded; images flashed through my head, and a twinge of fear tainted my blood. I stopped moving; in moments, the others were ahead of me. I looked at the guard, shell-shocked, then quickly turned my gaze downwards before he could notice. I knelt down and pretended to rub my leg a bit, as though it was in pain, plastering a wounded wince on my face.

"Natalie?" Steve turned around. "What's wrong?"

The others looked with him. I gave them all a bit of a half-smile, looking up from my 'injury'. "Sorry guys- ow-" I pretended to press something too hard and flinched a little. "I think Clint got me a bit better than I'd realized."

"Are you all right?" Thor asked, concerned. I shrugged it off.

"Yeah, fine," I waved them away. "You guys go ahead, I'll catch up. I wanna… walk it off a bit."

Tony seemed content to do just that; a few of the others still looked a bit worried, but when I glanced to Clint I saw something a little less friendly: suspicion. He'd never really struck hard; not once. Not enough to cause me much pain. I gave him my best innocent smile, trying to shrink myself a little, make myself look a bit younger. I looked up at him, giving him my best _see-I'm-just-a-helpless-young-woman-barely-out-of-teenage-years-and-no-harm-to-you-whatsoever_ look. He turned away.

"All right," Tony said dismissively. "We'll meet you up later." We discussed where we would meet, with the others trying to give me directions that I couldn't follow until Thor gave me a reference point that was relevant to his childhood. Everything just sort of fit into place from that point on, the map in my head that I'd drawn straight from Loki's memories becoming clearer.

They left me behind, and I rubbed my leg for a few moments, keeping the innocent look on my face, the little ditzy smile, until they turned the corner. The smile dropped in a heartbeat, my eyes turning cold and my heart colder. But I kept my face hidden from the guard, kneeling down and pretending to address my leg directly, and then to tie my shoe. After a moment, a fuzzy plan in my head, I stood slowly. I meandered around a little, walking in a small circle but never going far.

_Tell me now, Loki,_ I whispered as I did so. _Was it __**him?**_

There was a very, very long pause. The fear inside me grew worse. But, after a minute, he responded, _No._

_Liar,_ I chided softly, turning my burning gaze to the ground again. I could sense it; one glance at the guard's hands and I _knew _that they were the ones that had struck him, that had painted those bruises on his face.

I pretended to catch sight of the sentry suddenly; as though I had not noticed him there before. I gave him a wry, self-deprecating smile. "Hey," I said, a little weakly.

He did not respond. My hands fought to curl into fists, but I forced them to stay loose at my side. I ducked my head a little, raising my shoulders and stepping towards him. "I'm… um, I'm Natalie," I said, feigning awkwardness. In reality, my vision was beginning to turn scarlet, and there was a metal tang in my mouth.

_It was you,_ I wanted to snarl. _It was you, it was you, it was always __**you.**_

But I kept my temper in check. For now. He still did not respond, so I shuffled uneasily on my feet, rubbing the back of my neck.

"So… do you always… just sort of stand around here?" I asked. Acting dumb. Like I didn't _know _he was a guard.

That finally got a reaction. "Aye, m'lady," he answered, a bit stiffly. I kept my eyes from narrowing, but my Shrink Sense was ringing some serious bells in my head. What were his standing orders concerning the mortals that Thor had taken a shine to? Did he have any?

The 'm'lady' thing definitely got me thinking about it. Maybe he was meant to show respect. Maybe he had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to do. Maybe he wasn't supposed to talk at all, but he was taking pity on me. I kinda doubted the latter.

I giggled a little, like I couldn't believe my own stupidity. "Oh, right," I said, lightly smacking myself in the forehead with my palm. "Being a guard and all."

He clammed up again. Hmm… meant to show respect, but told not to be chatty about it. That was my best guess, given the silent-but-formal treatment. I rolled with it.

"It must get pretty boring," I noted, looking at the hallway. "I mean, you're just staring at the same stretch of wall, day in and day out." Nothing. I went with a direct question. "Do you ever like, switch posts? Rotate areas where you work with the other sentries?" Like I didn't already know. Like I didn't already know where his _last _position had been.

"Aye," he answered stiffly. "Every few weeks."

I gave him my biggest, most winning grin. "Well that's better than nothing, isn't it?" I asked. "I imagine there are a lot of places to keep safe here; the hallways, the entrances, the throne rooms…" I looked at him, my eyes sharpening just the slightest touch. "The prisons…"

"Yes, m'lady," was his only response.

I nodded slowly, looking a little impressed. "You know… Loki… he invaded Earth once. My planet." I looked down to my feet, awkward again. "Did you ever… like, stand guard near his prison?" (You scum-sucking son of a bitch?)

He seemed a little uncomfortable with this line of questioning. _Good. _"Aye."

Oh, good. No one had spread the story of my link with Loki around to the whole world. Otherwise he would have known where this was going. And shown a lot more fear. I grinned like an idiot. Meh, they already thought that mortals were less advanced; like little kids. Who cared if I strengthened that image, if only for a second? Making my voice a little more childish, I asked, "Was he scary?"

"No, m'lady. He was just another prisoner."

I smiled vapidly. "Really?" Drum roll, please…

"Then why did you find it necessary to go into his cell and beat his face in?" I asked, the smile still fixed in place, my tone still bright and perky. The man seemed taken totally aback. He blinked once. Twice.

"I'm sorry, my lady?"

"You heard me," I answered, still in my bubbliest, perkiest tone. But my hands were clenching in fists, and the smile had all but vanished. With each word, my voice turned darker, until I was spitting venom. "Why did you find it necessary to beat up a man who couldn't fight back; and your _prisoner _no less? Is 'shame' a foreign concept here or something?" My eyes narrowed into slits.

Fear crossed his features just briefly, but he covered it smoothly. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I do not know what you are talking about."

"_Really?" _I laughed once; I was almost surprised by how harsh it sounded, how bitter and cruel it was. And yet, at the same time, I wasn't surprised at all. "That's _funny._" I took a single step towards him. Careful. Calculating. Cold. "Because it just so happens that _I _have a mental connection with Loki." I smiled darkly. I saw the man's hands start to tremble very, very slightly. He was trapped like a rat; all it would take is one word from me, and Odin would know everything. And this guy _knew_ it, too. "Very little goes on in that cell that _I _don't know about. Very little goes on in his _thoughts _that I don't know about."

It wasn't entirely true. Loki had revealed quite a bit to me-involuntarily, but still- over our time together, but I knew there were still things he kept from me. Secrets that were still locked away safely in his mind. But to say that aloud would mean that this man could doubt my word; and I wouldn't have that.

I took another step towards the sentry, who remained shock-still. Fear rushed through his eyes, but again he pushed it back. "You must have me confused for someone else, my lady."

I laughed aloud; it sounded more like a snarl. "Oh, I don't think so." I looked him dead in the eye. "You've got a scar on your left pinky finger; two little lines that split away from a central point at a slight angle. There's a birthmark on the back of your neck, just under your helmet; very faint, very pale, but very much _there._" The scar on his hand was fairly visible to me right now, but the birthmark I only saw through what I was pulling from Loki's brain. He let me do so, completely absorbed by how this was playing out. "And when he was on the ground and you kicked him in the ribs, you smiled with every one of your teeth; including the chipped one at the bottom right." I gave him my own toothy smile. "No. I don't think I'm confusing you with anyone else."

A little bit of background on me; I hate bullies. More than almost anything. They drive me insane. And I have _always _hated bullies. When I was in fifth, maybe sixth grade, there was a young girl in my class; an artist. She used to love drawing; she'd doodle in class for hours, get in trouble for it all the time, even draw during recess or after school while waiting for her parents to pick her up. Everyone knew how much each and every one of those pictures meant to her; every single teacher and student in that class. Hell, even most of the parents knew.

I was not great friends with this girl by any stretch; sometimes we paired up for projects, or sat next to each other in class, or talked when the teacher's subjects got too boring, but that was it. By this point in my life, I had long ago lost touch with her in the craziness that is the high-school-to-college transition. Unlike April and I, we weren't best friends.

But she was a decent person, and I liked her well enough. And one day, some dumbass got it into his head that he didn't like _something _about her, and he decided to make her life miserable from that point on. He constantly poked fun at her, her drawings, and just about everything else. She insisted that she didn't care, laughed at some of his jokes, and mostly just ignored him.

Then, one day, she'd been drawing in her usual corner of the playground. April and I were nearby, playing on the swings like regular three-year-olds, when this guy came up to her and started picking on her _again. _He and his group of cronies started off 'innocently' enough, making just a snide comment, a barbed jab. April and I hadn't reacted well to that, but given the girl's earlier insistence that it was nothing, we didn't interfere.

Then he grabbed her sketchbook. She made her eyes glaze over and just ignored them all, letting them make fun of every drawing inside. Then he held the book above her head; and when she wouldn't jump up to try and catch it, he held it in both hands and ripped it down the middle.

She didn't react, and eventually they moved on to weaker prey. She picked up the scraps of her book and walked away.

I caught her crying her eyes out in the bathroom ten minutes later.

After school that day, April and I walked up to him. I asked him, very calmly and politely, to apologize to her and to never do anything like that again. (If you call, 'You're going to leave her alone or I'm going to brain you with a baseball bat' calm and polite.) He and his goons laughed in my face.

Now here's the thing. This guy was in the same grade as me, it's true, but he was one of those kids who grew to freakish heights and towered above the rest of the children. He was also pretty strong for a fifth-to-sixth-grader. Way stronger than me and my short, too-skinny self.

I didn't care, though. I jumped him. April watched. She wanted to join in, but I'd convinced her earlier that I would need a witness to tell the teachers that I acted in self-defense. It was his word against ours. The 'troublemaker' students against the B-average, not-perfect-but-not-horrible ones.

I got completely and totally pounded to a pulp; twin black eyes, multiple bruises and scratches… the sucker even came within two seconds of dislocating my shoulder. But I took a good chunk of him with me, doing as much damage as I possibly could. And guess what? He left the kid alone from then on. April and I celebrated my day-long-suspension by having her play hooky while we drank root beer floats and watched cartoons together. My mom couldn't have been prouder. _Her _mom never found out.

When it comes down to it, I can't stand the idea of anyone helpless-no matter who they are or what they've done- being picked on. It goes totally against the grain. So my blood was boiling as I took another step towards the man. It felt just like the same dilemma; this man, this immortal, this _Asgardian_ could probably kill me in his sleep. But in the end, it didn't matter. He was just another jerk in a long line of jerks.

"Do us both a favor," I growled at the sentry. "And don't _lie _to me. After Loki's escape attempt, you pushed him back in his cell. Then you knocked him to the ground and started hitting. Started _kicking._" My heart pounded; but it wasn't the quick, intense pounding that usually started the nanobots buzzing. It was strong. Loud. And just slightly faster than normal. My anger made the room sharper, clearer… _brighter._ Like my anger was lighting up the whole palace.

He actually looked scared. His eyes widened in fear; a bit _too _much fear, if I was honest, but I didn't question it at the time. I was too furious. My right hand slammed into the wall, just a hair's length away from his helmeted head.

"And you are _never_ going to do it again. Is that _perfectly _clear?" There was black menace in each and every word. The man stared, horror-struck.

"He… he tried to invade your world!" He protested. No more denial. He could tell I didn't believe him. "He's a killer! Nothing more! I… why would you… I would've thought that _you _of _all people _would _understand…_"

"Oh, I _understand," _I hissed. "I understand _everything._ I understand that he's a liar, a murderer, a _monster. _I _understand _that he went down to a weaker world and imposed his will on its inhabitants. I _understand _that one day, he is going to _kill me. _But I also _understand _that _I_ _don't care. _He was your_ prisoner!_ He was _weak _and _helpless, _and what _you did?_ Beating a man who can't fight back, kicking him while he's down? I _understand_ that makes _you _no _better _than _him!_"

The man was trembling by now. My blood was on fire, my pulse roaring in my ears like the drums of war. "Now you listen, and you listen _close._ I'm going to let this go one time. Just _this once. _But if it _ever _happens again? _Everyone _is going to find out. And I mean _everyone._ Your king, your queen, the whole friggin' royal family. But you're not going to have to worry about them. You're not going to have to worry about Loki, or Thor, or even _Odin._" I slammed my left hand onto the wall on the other side of his head. He flinched.

"You're going to have to worry about _me,_" I snarled. "Because I'll come for you _personally._ And it is going to be _brutal. Is that __**clear?**_"

He nodded quickly, and I pushed away from the wall, whirling around in disgust.

"Good," I straightened myself out, giving him a death glare to end all death glares. "Glad we had this little talk."

And I stalked from the room, after the Avengers. My rage still lit up the room like a floodlight; I blinked away tears of fury from my eyes and kept walking. I heard the guard's hyperventilated breathing for quite a while; but eventually that faded with time and distance, and I was left in silence.

And that silence was _deafening. _The world was ringing hollowly behind my ears. My actions had cleared away the noise in my head, had forced us into quiet. As I kept walking, trying to banish my lingering hatred, Loki said nothing to me; and I said nothing to him. I just kept walking.

Finally, after a very long time, Loki's voice whispered, _You did not have to do that._

I snorted, rolling my eyes. _If you think __**that, **__then apparently you don't know me very well. _

Again, silence.

_Why? _He asked at last. I don't think either of us was very clear on what, exactly, he was asking. Why was I like that? Why would I do it for _him?_ Why had I even bothered? But I shrugged.

_Because that's who I am._

He didn't respond, and I mentally chuckled, despite the fury still raging through me like wildfire.

_Besides. Only the Avengers and I get to kick your ass. _

He said nothing; merely retreated again. I wondered what he thought of my actions, what he thought of someone else standing up for him for a change. I shook it off; I'd have time to probe it later.

I walked to my designated meeting place with the Avengers; they were all sitting around in a room, talking about different subjects; some of them in heated arguments. They stopped when I entered the room. I smiled at them all, trying to force away the remaining fury in my blood with little to no success.

"Hey, guys," I said, waving. "Leg's better now."

They all stared at me. I entered the room and flopped onto the couch. I assume it was a couch. It probably had some fancy Asgardian name here. I smiled at them. "So what's up?"

They all kept staring at me like I'd grown a third eyeball. I frowned, one eyebrow lifting. "What's wrong?"

Tony swallowed. Steve tried to say something, but didn't seem able to. Even Thor seemed dumbstruck. I rolled my eyes. "Well don't tell me or nothing, just stare at me like _I'm _the idiot, why don't you?"

Tony cleared his throat. "You're… um… kinda… glowing."

The other eyebrow joined the first. "I'm _what _now?"

"Glowing," Steve concurred. I frowned deeply, looking down at myself.

"Oh, crap!" I shouted, all but jumping out of my seat, onto the back of the couch. They were completely right; from head to toe, my entire body was glowing with golden light. I stared at my hands, which shone brightly, the light streaming through my fingers and out my fingertips. My clothes muffled it a little, and wherever I had armor it did not show through, but everywhere that was uncovered shone like a beacon. "What the _hell?_" I demanded, looking around.

Tony laughed a little, mumbling, _"And all of the other reindeer…" _in a sing-song voice under his breath. I shot him a glare.

"Not funny, Stark," I snarled.

"Pretty funny, actually," He countered as Banner came up next to me, pulling his glasses from his shirt pocket and putting them on.

He took my arm, and I let him examine it for a moment while Steve tried to shut Tony up. Then Bruce asked, "Are you all right? How do you feel?"

"Fine," I answered truthfully. My mind was buzzing. I'd thought that my fury had made the room seem lighter; but no, I'd just been _glowing_. Because nothing in my life can ever be explained with something simple; it's gotta be nerdy or supernatural. It now seemed a lot clearer to me why that guard had seemed so afraid of me; I'd be pretty freaked out if some random glowing chick threatened me, too.

Bruce pulled something from his pocket, linking it up with the bracelet on my arm. I fought a sigh. You can take the scientist out of the geek lab…

He tapped a few commands, frowning at the readout on his little glass screen. "Did something happen while you were gone?" He asked. "Your heart rate is a bit elevated; as are your adrenaline levels. Not enough to trigger your indestructible side, but enough to cause a significant difference…"

I scrambled to think of a good lie; I hadn't expected to have to explain this away to the Avengers _again._ As I tried to think of an excuse, my eyes caught Steve and I flushed. He'd been right to worry about me constantly relying on just Loki or myself, as opposed to them. This was just hiding more things from them, just dealing with a problem myself. But I didn't feel like I had a choice. This wasn't my secret to tell.

I rubbed the back of my head uncomfortably, laughing a little. "Well… I kinda tripped over my own two feet back there. It made my leg hurt a lot worse, and so I started cussing it out…" There. That explained why I was a bit angry; not well, but it was better than nothing, and a good enough lie for one that I came up with so quickly. The others seemed ready to believe it; it wasn't as though tripping over my own two feet and cussing them out was an _uncommon _thing for me.

Banner's eyebrows furrowed. His eyes flicked to me, then back to the readout. I could tell he didn't totally believe me; obviously my heart rate was a bit faster than could be explained away by a mini-freak-out. But I kept quiet, and he didn't question it. He trusted me.

"It's almost like…" Banner bit his lip in concentration, scanning the little glass screen. "Like a warning." He looked to Tony. "Did you include anything like this in the prototypes?"

Stark shrugged. "How should I know? Loki altered my memories, remember?" But then he hesitated, and I could see it: a little spark in his eye that told an entirely different story. "Though… I vaguely remember… putting in an early warning system. Before the nanos would go critical, they'd display visible signs."

The blood rushed from my face. "_Critical?"_ I asked, my voice cracking. Tony shook his head quickly.

"Not like that! No, just… before the Death Bubble exploded. It was designed to help with training; so that a person could know when the nanobots were about to achieve that level. So they could learn to duplicate it."

I frowned. "So why haven't I lit up like this before? I've come extremely close to exploding before, haven't I?"

"Well, I _thought _that I'd deactivated it. It doesn't make sense for an agent to be out in the field and suddenly start glowing. With that in play, they might be spotted and killed before the Bubble of Doom could activate. And we _seriously_ need to come up with a better name for that thing." He tacked on, looking a bit annoyed.

I ignored the last bit. "Deactivate," I said suddenly, turning hard eyes towards him.

"What?"

"You said 'deactivate'. Not 'removed'. You left the early-warning system _on_ the nanos."

"Well… yeah, I suppose. Completely inert, but it was there."

Banner seemed to be catching on to what I was thinking. "And with an excess of power, which Natalie came into contact with when she came close to the Tesseract…"

I nodded quickly. "Is it possible that the Tesseract could've… _reactivated _it somehow? I mean, we know that the nanos had a lot of extra juice. Enough so that it was easier for them to understand my commands, enough so that my hand was healed in seconds as opposed to minutes…" I held out my hands. "And maybe just enough to make me light up like a Christmas tree."

Tony considered. "More than possible, it's very likely. Though it shouldn't have gone off so _easily_." He thought that over for a moment as I hid my panic. I couldn't let them know about my little 'discussion' with the guard. I just _couldn't._

Finally, Tony shrugged. "Then again, it does have its glitches. It was just a prototype, after all." I hid my relieved sigh successfully.

"The data seems to agree with this theory," Banner said slowly. "Nonetheless, we should probably get her back to the lab. And away from the Tesseract."

I bristled. "What, _now?" _The others looked at me. "I thought… I mean, I still have to see Loki."

"No. You don't _have _to see him," Clint said, looking ready to rise out of his seat. "They're right; you're not going when you're… compromised like this."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, please. It's an early warning system. I _glow, _big deal. What's he gonna do? Use me to _blind _everyone?"

"We don't _know _that it's a warning system."

"Am I dying on the ground? Are any of _you?_ No? Then it's just a warning. A 'back-off-or-die'. Nothing else."

"But if you're close to unleashing the bubble…" He tried. "If he knows that you're close to your tipping point…"

I gave him something that was a bit of a cross between a snort and a laugh. "What, like he doesn't know _already?" _I demanded, rapping my knuckles on the side of my forehead. "What part of the words _Telepathic Connection _confuses you?" I slouched against a nearby wall, leaning against it and kicking my foot back and forth. "And what good would it do him to have me unleash the bubble _inside _his prison? Obviously, it's his escape plan. And what kind of a complete _moron _would escape _into_ their own prison cell?"

"She has a point," Tony said, though he just looked too lazy to get his butt off the couch to go home.

Thor shrugged. Natasha moved very subtly to Clint's side of the room; so subtly that I almost missed it. Banner still looked eager to get me back to his tests and needles, and Steve… Steve was clearly against me seeing Loki in the first place, but he said nothing.

I folded my arms over my chest. "Long story short, so long as Odin had no problems with me seeing his son, I'm going. Odin has no problems, ergo, _I'm going. _End of story."

I turned to exit the room in a dramatic fashion, but Banner caught my arm, gently disconnecting his screen from the bracelet. "Perhaps we can come to a compromise," he said amicably. "We won't stop you from seeing Loki, Natalie. But perhaps it would be in everyone's best interests if you waited for this… _glow _to die down beforehand?"

Urgh. Man, I had a good bit of emotional steam going there. I hate it when my little girly fits are interrupted by cold, easy, annoying _logic. _But I slowly nodded my head. Bruce was right; that would be the smartest thing to do. Even if Loki already knew; at least it would make the Avengers more comfortable. I plopped down onto the couch, looking at my hands, coated in golden light. This was going to take some getting used to. But I was so used to this kind of weird shit happening to me that I barely batted an eye.

Tony opened his mouth to say something; I pointed a single finger at him. "So help me, Stark, if I hear one word outta you about 'Rudolph', 'light bulbs' or 'nuclear reactors', I'm going to rip your lips off and throw them on the roof."

He shut up.

* * *

"If you need us, Natalie, we'll be right here. Don't hesitate to call for us."

"I know, Steve," I responded in a dull tone; it was about the fiftieth time he'd said that.

"And if there's a hostage situation…" Clint started. I cut him off.

"Then you shoot me yourself," I answered easily. He clammed up, his lips mashing into a hard line. "But there won't be. Loki can't risk me getting killed. He needs me for some reason."

The guys had made me wait to come here-outside of Loki's prison cell- for almost two hours after the glow had died; which it did once I'd banished the rage from my blood. The waiting had made me less anxious about seeing Loki and more annoyed that they weren't _letting_ me. By this point, all I wanted to do was get into that room and _talk _with the man. Battle or no battle, enemies or not, I _had _to talk to him.

The other Avengers-save Thor- looked mildly uncomfortable, but they allowed me to step towards the doors. Like everything else in this place, they were gold and ornate. Even the prisons held beauty.

On the outside.

I shuddered as I thought of what lay beyond that door, what lay inside Loki's cell. Thor nodded at the guards, and the door swung inwards, plunging the world into darkness. Thor had explained that there was a magical barrier that covered the entrance; one that kept Loki inside, but allowed others in. It was attuned specifically for him; anyone else could come and go as they pleased, should the guards allow them through.

It was a stronger magic than Loki's, I knew. There was nothing to fear of him escaping through _that._ But he wasn't called a 'trickster' for nothing. There was another trick up his sleeve, I just _knew _it.

I swallowed and took a step forwards; only when I heard the others' footsteps padding after me did I realize that they were coming inside as well. I turned back to them, frowning and ready to protest, but Steve stopped me.

"We're just making sure you're all right. Then we'll go."

My frown deepened, but I let it slide. Paranoid superheroes.

The first thing that I saw when I entered the room was darkness. Complete. Pure. Absolute. There was no light _anywhere._ We were traveling through the blackness, a smothering, oppressive dark that seemed almost like a living thing. I didn't usually have much of a problem with the dark, but this was different; I could see nothing, not the Avengers behind me, not my hand an inch away from my face. The blackness enveloped me, coating my eyes, making me wander blindly towards an unknown destination; I was breathing in the shadows, cold and malevolent and sharp.

But as we kept walking, it slowly, _slowly _lightened into pale grey, the cell washed with a small, pathetic light with no determinable source. I shivered a little.

"_It's so lonely here, and so dark…"_

The words he'd once used. The words I'd once dismissed as a lie. But it wasn't. It wasn't even _close _to a lie.

It was so _dark…_

I saw him after a moment, in the center of the weak, grey light. Despite the fact that there was a small bed in the back corner of the room, Loki sat on the floor, cross-legged and thinking. His eyes were closed, his bruised face looking a little better than last time, but not much. His hands lay loosely linked in his lap, and in spite of his situation, he sat up straight, exuding royal grace and power. He did not react to the sound of our footsteps, nor to Tony's sudden snort of laughter.

"What happened to _you?_" Stark demanded, looking the Asgardian prisoner up and down, taking in the healing bruises and scabs. "Did Big, Green, and Ugly get you _that _bad?"

There was no response from Loki; as I knew there wouldn't be. He didn't even move; merely remained, exuding all of the confidence of a king.

"He made an attempt to escape a while ago," Thor explained in a quiet voice to Tony. "He was stopped. The injuries were… an unfortunate effect."

Tony just kept smiling cockily. "Oh, so it was the lowly _guard _who beat the big, bad king up. That's _so _much _better._"

I winced, then whirled on him. "Shut it, Stark," I snarled. "You're not as funny as you think you are."

Ugh, I couldn't _deal _with another bully right now. I quelled the rage, desperate to keep the glow away. This was Stark. He wasn't a bully.

He was just an _idiot_.

Tony took a step back, a little stunned by my reaction. He lifted his eyebrows and raised his hands halfway, though it was obvious he was unrepentant. I turned back to Loki; his eyes had opened, and he was watching me very, very carefully.

My eyebrows shot up, confusion then turning them into a squiggle line. "Your eyes are green," I noted, speaking directly to him. The others seemed content to act as though he could not hear us, but I was determined to be better than that.

He didn't react; he didn't even blink. Thor, on the other hand, answered, "Of course."

"But they're _not,_" I turned to Loki's brother. "They're blue. Every time I see him, they're always _blue._ I remember, because…" I stopped. I remembered because I'd thought about how beautiful they were; but that was something that the others did _not _need to hear. "They were _blue,_" I re-emphasized.

Natasha considered. "They were always blue before," she added.

"Perhaps it was the Tesseract's influence?" Banner suggested, looking at Loki. The prisoner's eyes had not left me; which felt incredibly creepy. His gaze seemed to pierce through the darkest parts of my heart.

"If that's the case," I said slowly, "Then we were right about him using residual energy from the Tesseract." I looked to Loki. If I'd thought those blue eyes of his were gorgeous, it was _nothing _compared to those green pools. Beautiful people. Oh, how I hate them.

"Weren't we?" I asked him directly. Still no response. He didn't even blink. His face was stony, those emerald eyes like iron as he watched me.

"Ok, _that_ is getting _creepy,_" Stark muttered under his breath. Loki's gaze shifted to him, the utmost contempt filling his arrogant features. Had everyone in that room not been able to take his head off, I had the sneaking suspicion that Loki would've attacked him. But instead, he remained where he was, still sitting tall. Still acting like a king.

But the king of _what?_

"What good would it do you to know?" His voice was so soft that I thought it was only in my head; but then all of the Avengers looked to him. The question was addressed to me; I thought that he was responding to the question in my mind, but then he elaborated. "Whether I used the energy from the Tesseract or not, it will still kill you. It will still rip you apart." He smiled a little, tilting his head to the side. "What does it matter _how_ you die, when you know that you most certainly _will?_"

His eyes traveled over to the Avengers; still speaking to me, but with a double meaning in his words that was meant for all of them. "And that there is nothing _you_ can do to _stop it?_"

I saw Steve's hand curl into fists at his side. Tony's jaw clenched. Clint and Natasha reached for the weapons in their belt. Thor's eyes narrowed on his brother. Even Bruce had a spark in his eye that I'd never really seen before; a glint of fury.

He was playing them like a fiddle.

I snorted, rolling my eyes. Time to throw a wrench in his little plan. "Bitch, please," I answered, knowing full well that I was quite possibly the only person in history to say that to an Asgardian. (I make history in my own way, thank you very much.) "The universe has had it in for me since the cradle. A little thing like _death _ain't gonna scare me too much."

The others gave me looks. I met Loki's gaze steadily, evenly. When neither of us backed down, I glanced towards the Avengers. "You guys can go now," I said firmly. "I can take it from here."

They looked reluctant. Clint even took a step forwards, debating how to phrase his protest.

So I lied.

_Sorry, Steve, _I thought. I'd promised him I'd work with them, but they were making it so _difficult._

I stifled a sigh, then forced myself to flinch, to cringe away from some invisible threat. I brought my hand up to my temple, then glanced ruefully back at Loki; making it look as though he was yelling, screaming inside my head. Turning back to the Avengers, I added, "Yeah, he's _really _not going to talk around you guys."

It wasn't _technically _a lie. But it was dishonest enough. A few looked worriedly to Loki, but I blew it off quickly. "I've _got _this, you guys. Just… go."

Slowly, halfheartedly, they obeyed. As they vanished into the darkness, Steve turned back. "We'll be right outside, Natalie." He told me for the umpteenth time.

"I know," I said patiently.

I waited until their footsteps faded and I heard the door closing behind them before I turned to Loki. The two of us both had blank looks on our faces, surveying each other while giving nothing away. Our eyes met; green on brown.

I folded my arms across my chest, the corners of my lips tugging downwards. I chewed on the inside of my cheek and waited for him to say something. _Anything._

He did nothing. Merely looked up at me. What, exactly, did we have to say to each other? Nothing. Everything.

I cracked before he did. Sighing very heavily, I relaxed, dropping my arms down to my sides again and crouching down in front of him, kneeling so that I was at eye level with him. He didn't move a centimeter.

I continued gnawing on my lip as I studied him, my eyes scanning the injuries on his face. Like the first time that I had seen the little bruises and cuts, I found my hand reaching out towards him. It was natural, reflexive; but the second I realized what I was doing, I forced my hand back to my side.

But then… that was the reason I was here in the first place, wasn't it? Hadn't I told Steve as much? Hadn't I told him that the main reason why I wanted to see Loki face-to-face like this was because, when we could not touch each other, he was not _real?_ And that _I _was not real to him?

Carefully, cautiously, I allowed my hand to rise again, to reach towards the Trickster. My fingers, trembling slightly, went out to stroke the bruise that ran along his jaw.

Then, suddenly, in a movement so fast that I didn't even see it, his hand whipped up and caught mine. Long fingers encircled my wrist, holding it there tightly, just seconds before my fingers brushed across his skin. I looked to him, panic immediately flooding through me, sending my heart racing. But he wasn't even looking directly at me; his gaze seemed far-off and distant, focused at a point somewhere to the side.

"Do not touch me, mortal," He whispered, his voice again very quiet. It was so strange, _hearing _his voice as opposed to just having it appear in my head. I'd thought I'd heard it aloud before… but now the difference between that and the reality became immediately clear.

I glanced to the hand trapping my wrist and swallowed. "It seems to me that _you're _the one touching _me,_" I countered, my voice a little hoarse and strained. I cleared my throat, shaking myself out of my fear and adding, a little stronger, "And what's with this 'mortal' shit, anyway? It's _Natalie._ You've been in my head for months and you can't even say my name right?"

His eyes flickered to me, locking dead on. They were steely, filled with black ice, but surprisingly, there was very little malice in them. His fingers splayed out, releasing my hand, and I pulled it back to my body reflexively.

We fell silent again. He turned away from me, as though I couldn't possibly matter less. I rubbed my wrist a little; that was going to leave a mark.

Finally, Loki sighed and turned his full attention to me. "That was impressive," he admitted.

My eyebrows shot up. "What was?"

"Your lie," he answered easily. "You allowed the Avengers to believe that I was… hurting you, due to their presence. It was clever."

My eyes bugged. I looked away quickly to hide my shock. Was Loki… _complimenting _me? _Without _sarcasm?

"For a mortal," he added, a touch of arrogance lurking in his words. Jerk.

"Yeah, well," I grumbled unhappily. "You _would _be impressed by a lie."

He gave me the smallest, tiniest, little itty bittiest of conceited smiles. But then he looked away from me again. "What is it you want, Miss Frost?"

I shrugged. "Well, let's see… world peace would be nice. And maybe an end to every world's problems… Ooh, and a motorcycle!"

He rolled his eyes to me, sighing very softly, exasperatedly. "What do you want from _me?_" He corrected himself.

I pretended to consider that carefully, running my fingers along my jaw line, stroking an imaginary goatee. "A little respect." I answered at last. "A king is not a king without his subjects; and his subjects will rebel without respect. Tyranny is never tolerated for long."

"Is that right?" He seemed amused, rather than angry, at my view on the situation. "Then why are there so many tyrants in your history? Why do you kneel before men who hold the power of life and death over you?" he looked away, his gaze distant again. "Humanity craves subjugation. They welcome it."

"Then why don't I?"

"There are exceptions to every rule." His eyes slid sideways to me and glinted fiercely. "And most mortals do not have a death wish quite as strong as yours."

Ooh. Loki was learning a bit of the Shrink Speak. All right. I was game. "And my death wish is not quite as strong as _yours._" I smiled dazzlingly at him. "You have convinced yourself that you are immortal, that you can not die… but that is _all _you want to do. Death feels like your only answer."

"Spoken like one who has experience in such matters," he countered easily.

I snorted. "Spoken like a shrink, you mean."

He chuckled, and his gaze slid forwards again. We fell silent. It was strange, how easy it was to talk with him. I mean, I didn't _agree _with him on a lot of things, and at our core we were enemies… and yet, here we were, talking as though we had known each other for our whole lives, not seeming to care about that. It didn't _matter _to me that he was going to end up killing me. Right now… well, we weren't friends. But we might as well have been; because, right now, we weren't acting like enemies, either.

The silence lingered for a while. Then, genuinely, he said, "You certainly are the strangest mortal I've ever met."

I rolled my eyes at the term. "Ok, _seriously. _You have to stop calling me 'mortal.' It's getting on my nerves."

His head tilted to the side as he turned to face me again. "Why? It is what you are. You are only mortal, in the end."

My arms folded tightly across my chest, my eyes narrowing into thin slits. "Because it's _insulting. _In the end,_ you're_ just a big, blue Frost Giant; but you don't want me calling you '_Smurf', _do you?"

He made a noise at the back of his throat that sounded suspiciously like a growl. Some of the most emotion I'd seen him display outwardly.

"That's what I thought," I said, nodding once, vindicated. His narrowed eyes went to me, but he did not answer. We held each other's gazes again, refusing to back down. In this time, I had shifted from my half-crouched, half-kneeling position and was sitting down on the ground across from him; but now I shifted back, crouching again. A while passed, the silence swarming around us, sapping all of our anger away with the passage of time. Finally, I looked to him, my thoughts turning back to the real matter at hand.

"Please, Loki," I said quietly, humbly. Not submissively; but humbly. I held out my hand again, reaching for the bruises. "Please," I repeated. "We're not… real."

He blinked at the subject change, but he said nothing, and he did not try and stop my hand again as it crossed the space between us. Finally, my fingertips brushed across the bruise, stroking it gently.

I smiled a little. His skin was as cold as ice beneath my fingers, but it was definitely, absolutely, and completely _real. _My smile morphed into a full-fledged grin. My hand cupped his cheek carefully; he remained as still as a statue, the glint in his eye telling me that I would very likely regret this move later, and that he would not tolerate this if I were not necessary to his plans. I didn't really care at that point, though.

I pulled my hand back after a moment, dropping it to my side. My eyes went along the bruises, scanned his black eyes. Fresh rage boiled in my blood. "That bastard. I should've taken him out when I had the chance."

He did not need to ask who I was talking about. He turned away, ignoring me. "It doesn't matter, Natalie. He was irrelevant."

"Like hell."

He let out a breath of air too quick to be truly called a sigh; too exasperated to argue with me. "Why do you insist on acting as though you care?"

"Why do you insist that it's just _acting?"_

He did not answer the question directly. "It was your father, wasn't it?"

I stiffened. "What?" I asked, completely thrown off guard.

"He convinced you that you were a monster. And now you are doing everything in your power to prove him wrong. Even forgiving the unforgivable." His green eyes locked on me. Sparked. "Even forgiving what I have done to you."

Pain surged through me, and I was forced to look away. I took a moment to gather myself together, to pull myself back into the fight. Loki was _not _going to out-shrink me, _not _going to beat me at my own game.

"So what if it _was_ him?" I asked at last. "Everyone has a past; and everyone is made up of that past. It's what makes you who you are." I looked at him, turning the conversation around, turning it back to him. "Evil isn't born, Loki. It's made. It's created. Forged with suffering, with pain and hate… _You_ weren't born evil; even if you are a Frost Giant. You became this way. You _let _yourself become this way."

He smiled a little. "You think me evil?"

I hesitated. "I think that you've done some evil things."

He chuckled quietly, his gaze shifting away from me again. "And what is the most evil thing that I have ever done to _you_, Miss Frost?"

That one caught me even more off guard. I tried to see a reason for his question, tried to think of why he would even bother… but eventually, I let it go. It just made my head hurt, trying to understand everything he did. I thought of an honest answer; there was no point in _dis_honesty. Not between us.

"You threatened my friends," I answered at last. "I could care less what you do to me. But… if you come within two feet of them…" My eyes turned hard. "You're a dead man, immortal or no."

Again, with the dark chuckle. He looked upwards, turning his face to the darkness above. "No, Natalie," he said, and his voice sounded surprisingly… human. "That is not the worst thing that I have ever done to you."

I frowned. I couldn't think of anything worse. "Then what is?"

He kept his gaze on the shadows above us. For a beat, he did not reply; merely observed the darkness, stared into the abyss.

Finally, he told me, "I have lied to you. I have _always _lied to you."

A cold shiver ran down the length of my spine; I had heard those words from him before. I'd known he was warning me then, and I knew he was warning me now. There was something else. Something beyond the craziness of our lives, something beyond his usual deceptions and tricks. Something important.

Something he hadn't told me yet.

He smiled. "It is, perhaps, the cruelest thing I have ever done to you. And it pushes the limit of even _your _forgiveness."

My hands began to tremble; I swallowed my uneasiness and asked, in a softly-crackling whisper, "So stop lying. Tell me the truth."

Those once-blue-and-suddenly-green eyes of his locked on my always-brown ones. For just a second, the smile vanished. In its place was… sorrow. And… _remorse. _

But then the smirk was back, and he shook his head. "No. Not yet." The smile stretched, back to its former pompous self. "There is still so much more for us to do. There is still a battle ahead."

I frowned, but I knew better than to argue with him on this, so I shut up.

The two of us spent almost the entirety of our remaining time in complete silence, saying not a word. We didn't really need to _say _anything; we were content to learn anything we needed from the other's thoughts and feelings.

But there were a few things that were bugging me. Bugging me _badly. _Loki sensed it in the way that my thoughts kept returning to the subjects, over and over again, but he didn't say anything. Not until I did.

"So why did you try to escape?" I asked at last, showing my typical amount of subtlety. Loki didn't look at me. "You already have an escape plan in place; I assume that's what _I _am. So why did you try and escape anyway?"

There was silence. Then, a little quieter, he answered, "Do you know what it is to be imprisoned, Miss Frost?" His words were hardly audible. "It does not matter if you know that it is temporary. It does not matter if another plan is in play. I saw an opportunity; a single shaft of freedom, bleeding through the darkness." His eyes went to the ground, studying the stonework, turning empty and hollow. He spoke as if he no longer even knew that I was there, no longer acknowledged my presence. "It wasn't a choice. There was _no _choice involved. I had to run. I had to be away from the dark."

Pity lanced through me, an unwanted but not entirely unexpected emotion. Reflexively, I reached out to take his hand. "Loki… I'm so sorry…"

He yanked his hand away before I could touch him. "Was there anything else, Miss Frost?" he asked, a little colder now. As though he wasn't sure why he'd even said what he had in the first place.

I frowned, but forced myself to let it slide. I took a deep breath and answered, "Yeah, actually. This whole 'Frost Giant' thing." He glanced at me, wary. He knew that I had a bit of a habit for picking at scabs. I pushed through it and went on, "You keep insisting that _this _is the way you are. You've convinced yourself that this makes you into a monster. That you _are _a monster. And yet… you keep your Asgardian form." I gestured to him on 'Asgardian'. "If you'd really accepted it… shouldn't you drop the disguise and become… what you really are?"

"It is not that simple." He replied. Despite how wary he had been a moment ago, he now appeared almost grateful for the subject change; for _any _subject change. "I did not discover my true nature until I came in contact with artifacts and creatures from Jotunheim. The transformation is not conscious."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, please. People don't call you a 'Master of Magic' for no _reason. _You're telling me that with your ability to make little illusion-Loki-clones, not to mention show _me _a bunch of crazy nightmares… you can't even make an _illusion _of your 'other self'?"

He looked away from me. "Why waste the effort?" He asked quietly.

"Liar."

His eyes narrowed very slightly.

"You're lying to me. You could appear as your Jotun self; illusion or not. You just choose not to."

"I have no reason to."

"_Liar,_" I repeated. He didn't respond. The two of us fell into brooding silence, while I grumbled inwardly about his insane stubbornness. I thought _I _was bad; I was _nothing _compared to him.

I looked away from him; but a slow, creeping blueness in the corner of my vision made me look back. My eyes widened as darkness swept across his skin, staining it a deep blue. It crept up his fingers, over his arms, spreading up to his neck and enveloping his face. As it touched his eyes, the green morphed into shining, brilliant red. For one moment, a single patch of humanity (Asgardity? Whatever) lingered over one eye, so that it remained green while the other glared red, the twin sides of Loki Laufeyson warring over his features. But then the Jotun side vanquished the Asgard; and he was left, sitting in front of me, a Frost Giant.

Strange patterns seemed etched into his skin; darker patches that lined certain areas of his face. His hair looked a touch darker, though that could've been my imagination. He did not look me in the eye, but rather kept his now-red gaze on the ground.

"What do you think?" he asked mockingly. I knew what he expected; he expected what any Asgardian child would feel. He expected mortal terror. He expected me to spurn him. He may not have been fully aware that was what he expected, but I knew it _was. _

But to me… I could not say that his Frost Giant form was more beautiful than his other one; that would be a complete lie. The red eyes creeped me out a little bit, and he definitely looked… like a monster. But I wasn't scared. Not at all. There was a different kind of beauty to this form, a different kind of magnificence. Something entirely unlike from his Asgardian form, and yet, somehow, at the same time, it was still… _Loki._

Besides; it's not every day that you get to see an alien that actually _looks _like an alien; not even in _my _crazy, hectic life. I couldn't be scared of that. I was almost too excited.

I gave him a little smile. "I think you look better that way," I told him, not untruthfully. I couldn't resist reaching out to touch him again; but that was the whole point of me seeing him face-to-face like this, anyway. I ran my fingers along the bruises of his face, which didn't look much different than when he was in his other form. They just didn't stick out as clearly. This time, his eyes closed as my fingers brushed his face, and my smile grew a little. "You look… more like you."

He let out a quick puff of air; almost a snort, but not quite. "I look like a monster." His voice suddenly went very quiet. "Is that all I am? A monster?" His own hand went up to his face, tracing lines there, as though he himself could not believe what he was.

My eyes softened. "Yes. Unequivocally, irrevocably and abso-fraggin'-lutely _yes. _But not because of this." I gestured to his blue skin, the red eyes. "Because you let yourself believe that about yourself, simply due to what you are." I rolled my eyes. "See, _this _is why I hate _labels_. Some stupid person says something about you, and one day you start to believe it. I'll admit, _some _Frost Giants are monsters. One of them abandoned you, after all. But I have to believe that none of them are inherently evil; and that more than includes you."

His voice remained soft, his red eyes distant. "But I have always had these thoughts," he whispered. "These black imaginings. Days when I… when I _hated _my father, when I wished my brother dead…"

"So?" I demanded, a little harshly. "What, you don't think _I _never wanted to take a baseball bat to _my _father's head every once in a while? You don't think I didn't spend hours just throwing my head into a wall after a day of my mother's nagging? Hell, you don't think that _April _and I were at each other's throats after spending too much time with each other? That's_ kid _stuff. Sure, it might have been a bit more violent in your case, but…" I looked around, then pulled up pictures of swords and maces in my head; weapons that I'd seen outside in the palace on more than one occasion. "You didn't exactly grow up in the _tamest _of environments. Bloodshed, war… these things were natural to you. As natural as breathing."

He looked to me, bemused. "Saying that _you _had some of the same thoughts is not as reassuring as you might think, mortal." –Again with the _mortal-_ "For you yourself are a monster." As I looked ready to protest, he just chuckled. "Do not deny it, Miss Frost. One monster knows another."

I scowled at him. "Low blow, Laufeyson," I mumbled. He did not answer. I tucked my hands under my arms and pouted a little. "Well, fine. I tried to help."

He laughed a little, quietly, and we fell into silence again. After a moment, I stood, listening carefully. "The others will be here soon. If you don't want them seeing you like that, you'd better change it."

He complied, his skin turning paler, his eyes fading back to that beautiful, beautiful green. But already I missed it. I missed the genuine side of him; hidden away from the world, so beautiful in its own way…

I turned and started for the door, heading towards the darkness. But his voice stopped me.

"For what it's worth, Natalie," He called; he rarely called me Natalie. It was always 'Natalie Frost' or 'Miss Frost' or just plain 'Frost'. I hesitated, half-turning to him.

His eyes locked on me. "If you were not going to die soon… you would have made an excellent psychiatrist."

The smile on his face was genuine. There was no guile, no treachery in that smile. It was, perhaps, the first completely legitimate smile he'd ever given me; the first smile that was not tainted by his arrogance, the first smile that was not a smirk. It was wonderful; it lit his whole face up and made me just want to help him, to scream at the world for ever wiping it away. An innocent smile on a bloodthirsty Jotun.

I laughed aloud; _very _loud. It echoed a thousand times over in his dark prison cell. "And you," I answered, "Would've made an excellent king. You know. Once you got over the whole 'everything needs to kneel or die' mentality."

The smile stretched, and he closed his eyes again, his muscles locking into place, so that he was the same stone statue he'd appeared as when I'd first arrived. I laughed again, shaking my head in almost-disbelief.

I left him in the darkness of his world, and he left me in the darkness of my thoughts.


	14. Daddy Issues

**A/N: I UPDATED! YAY! **

**Ok, so, in case this wasn't clear to anyone (I don't know why I thought it **_**would **_**be…) I try to update once a week. **_**Try **_**being the operative word here. Usually, I'm a few days late, sometimes a few days early, and sometimes I miss the week entirely, because of… erm… because waffles. So, thank you for your patience, and here you go! **

The ceiling above my bed had exactly three hundred and forty two tiles. It had fifty cracks and about three little shadow-and-ridge-formed shapes that looked like dogs. I had counted and observed every single one of them.

Nah, just kidding. Asgardian ceilings don't have tiles, exactly. At least, not in _my _room. But I was certain that, if this ceiling was not perfectly, _obnoxiously _flat, I would've counted those tiles and cracks about three times by this point.

Boredom had reached a new low.

I'd tried to read for a while, but with how late it was, my head was aching too badly to do so. I had been lying flat on my back, looking at the gold ceiling (because everything has to be _gold _in this place) for a good four hours. My feet were twitching, and I wanted to just get up and move around. But I didn't know how well the Asgardians would take to having a random mortal traveling the halls at night. I had paced around in my room for a while, but that just made me dizzy, going around in circles like that.

The others were all sleeping, I was sure, or else I would've asked Clint if we could go back to the arena and do some training. It would've been less awkward with the two of us, rather than me being on my own. I sighed heavily. Every time I drifted off to sleep, Loki was waiting with another batch of nightmares. But now that I was awake, he was sleeping. Bastard. It seemed nothing had really changed between us; I hadn't expected it to, anyway.

But even though I doubted there would be any nightmares while he slept, I still couldn't force my eyes to stay closed. After a few tries, it just seemed… pointless to sleep.

_Screw it, _I thought, standing and throwing on some of the clothes I'd been given. _No one's gonna be awake, anyway. _

I knew that wasn't true; knew that the guards would be standing sentry, watching the darkness, but it was all I could do to convince myself to leave the room. It was going to feel awkward no matter what, to have me roaming around the palace, by myself, at night. I had no idea where I should go, or what I should do.

Just as my hand reached for the door handle, it swung open; I stumbled backwards, getting out of the way quickly, my eyes wide. A man stood there, very tall, with a golden helmet on his head. He looked like he could've been a guard; but with the way everyone wore armor around here, who could know for sure?

My eyebrows rose. I hadn't even gone outside yet. Was he seriously going to chew me out already? But instead, he set down the tip of his gold staff, which rang against the ground with a hollow _clang!_ He stood, as majestic and regal as any of the royals; but I knew he was not.

"Lady Frost," he announced grandly. I nodded, a little wary, fighting the urge to ask, _What did I do __**this **__time?_

"Heimdal requires your presence," He said stiffly, then turned around, clearly wishing for me to follow. The name _Heimdal _sent a flash-flood of emotions through me, but nothing that I could pin down without Loki's assistance. Ugh, he was never there when I needed him.

I followed the man, a little tentatively, trying to sort through what I knew about Heimdal in my head. His name had come up once or twice when Thor and I had been discussing his shared memories with Loki, but I'd never really focused on that.

The guard led me to a door far larger than any of the others in the palace; and then outside of that door, into the vast space beyond.

The palace of Asgard was beautiful. The skies of Asgard… were incredible. Magnificent. I looked above me, awestruck by the stars there, the swirling, nebulous colors that lurked behind the silver pinpoints of light. I was rendered speechless; _me, _speechless. I stopped moving for a second, staring upwards at that sky. New York City, even with all of its pollution and _blech, _has a fair-ish amount of stars on a good day. But this… you could hardly see the darkness through the light. I was in complete awe; so much so that the man leading me actually had to stop and wait for me to follow again.

When I did, my heart was still high up in those skies, and I almost fell off of the bridge when we came to it. The man who had retrieved me from my room gripped my arm just before I walked off the ledge, stopping me from plunging into more of the nebulous dark. That was the first time I noticed the bridge that I walked on; a crystalline structure of a thousand colors, with my every footstep alighting softly as I moved. Wow. Seriously. Wow.

I continued gawking like a tourist until I was led to the edge of the bridge, a fair distance away. It broke off into nothing, shattered crystals jutting out at the void where the Bifrost had been destroyed. I knew this place; it would've been impossible for me not to know.

This was the place where the sons of Odin had fallen; and one had not survived.

Pain spiked through me; despite the fact that Loki was still sleeping (I could feel his dreams lingering in the back of my head) I was not sure if the pain was his or mine. But I was distracted from figuring this out by the golden figure that stood beside the bridge. I blinked a few times and realized that the gold was armor; that his skin was actually fairly dark, standing out in sharp contrast with the armor. I was almost as much in awe of him as I was my surroundings; the guy was _huge. _He towered high above me, with thick muscles that could've put most of the Avengers' to shame; no easy feat, let me tell you.

He half-turned as we arrived, and the man who had brought me gave him a low bow, then turned stiffly and walked off. I stayed where I was, observing the man in front of me. He wore a strange helmet, only letting me see a portion of his face, and carried an enormous sword with him, its tip resting on the ground as his hands wrapped tightly around the handle. And his eyes… They were this explosion-orange, a fiery gold… completely indescribable. He stood as perfectly tall as all of the other Asgardians I'd seen, if not taller. I could tell instantly that he would make a very, _very _dangerous enemy, and I was only too grateful that he was an obvious ally.

I swallowed a little, trying to hide my shakiness. "You… uh… you wanted to see me?"

He nodded once. "Yes," he said, in a deep, smooth voice that calmed my heart just a touch. But he didn't say anything more. I looked around a little, feeling helpless and out of sorts. The man had a _sword. _And muscles. Muscles that could kill a hippo. I couldn't help but feel just the _slightest _bit intimidated.

"Why?" I asked at last, unsure of what else to do. He smiled very, _very _slightly. It wasn't like Loki's sociopath smiles, where it was just a gesture used to fight you, taunting you with his knowledge. No, this was different. It certainly was a _knowing _smile, but it was also… kind. Gentle.

He was quiet for a moment, but then he turned away, looking over the depths of the universe beyond the wreckage of the Bifrost. "I have watched you, Lady Frost," He said at last, "Since your arrival in Asgard."

Immediate first thought? _STALKER! _But that went away quickly; it didn't fit in with the impressions of this man that I'd gotten from Loki, vague though those impressions might be. And beyond that… it just didn't seem like that.

And then I realized; he was the security system. Tony had JARVIS, Asgard had Heimdal. He kept an eye on things, kept things running smoothly, kept bad guys from getting too close… He must've had some freaky magical powers that let him watch without being observed himself.

But, if he'd been watching _me, _then that meant… My mouth went dry. My limbs started to shake. I felt impossibly weak. I cursed in my head. A lot. Loudly. I was surprised it didn't wake Loki up.

If he'd been watching me, that meant he'd seen me threatening the guard. For all of my 'careful' planning, for all of the lies I'd been forced to tell… Odin was still going to find out. And through him, the _Avengers_ would find out.

Feeling all of the blood rush from my face, I squeaked, "Are you… are you going to tell Odin?"

He did not have to ask what I was referring to; his smile grew just a fraction. "Yes."

I felt my stomach twist. Loyalty. It's a bitch.

Loyalty to myself had made me chew the guard out. Loyalty to Loki had made me lie to the Avengers about it. And now Loyalty to Odin would have Heimdal tattling on me.

"Indeed, I already have," Heimdal corrected himself.

_Shiiiiiiitttt…_

I swallowed, looking at that sword of his in a new light. What were the chances of Odin being so furious at me for keeping this secret that he would have Heimdal 'accidentally' push me over the edge of the Bifrost? Pretty slim, I was sure, but I took a step aside just in case. "I see," I said cautiously. "Did he say anything?"

Heimdal continued to smile. "He wishes for you to know that he would not have given the man a warning."

I let out a massive sigh of relief, but my stomach was still twisting. Loki was going to be seriously angry when he found out. Angry and hurt. I knew I'd have to keep it from him; if it was the last thing I did, I had to keep it from him.

I couldn't help but saying, "He wasn't supposed to find out about it," in a slightly weak voice. Heimdal didn't answer. After a long moment of silence, I asked, "So… Was that it? Was that… why you wanted to see me?"

There was silence. Then, he turned to the stars. "You lie very often in the service of Loki," he noted, his voice quiet, but holding a certain, resounding strength.

I shuddered a little. The lying had probably gotten a lot worse since I'd come here. But I tried to remain flippant about it. "I wouldn't say it was 'in his service'. More like… as a favor."

Heimdal's smile had vanished. He was suspiciously quiet for a very long time. Then, "Be warned. These simple deceits can lead to far greater crimes." His eyes went to me, those eyes like fire piercing straight through me, seeing everything. "Asgard is well protected, should you decide to destroy it in his 'favor'."

My eyes popped a little, my jaw going slack though my mouth remained closed. "What?" I demanded, unable to keep the heavy sarcasm from my voice, despite everything. "You really think that I'm _capable _of that? Of _destroying _Asgard?"

He didn't even blink at my cynicism. He remained perfectly still, his hands still wrapped tightly around his sword's handle. Meeting my gaze evenly, he answered in a single, definite word.

"Yes."

Well. Did anyone else _not _see that coming? Cause I sure as hell didn't. This dude, with his insane armor, massive sword, absolutely psychotic muscle mass and towering physique… thought that _I _was a threat to Asgard? That was like someone on a street corner holding up a rodent and saying, _Check it out, peeps! This hamster is going to destroy the world!_

Though, if the hamster was nano-infected, you'd have to wonder…

I managed to shake out of my shock after a few moments. Heimdal remained stonily silent, watching me. I looked back at him for a long moment, considering. Yeah, I guessed I could see it. Indestructible Girl vs. City of Immortals. It was somewhat evenly matched; if I had fighting experience, control over my abilities, and a reason to attack in the first place. Nope, nope and nope. Ok! Asgard was safe.

But still… if Heimdal thought that I was a threat…

I looked away, out to the beautiful, starlit darkness. "You don't have to worry about me," I said quietly. "No matter what Loki says… I know who I am." My voice dropped a little, so that it was nigh inaudible to my own ears; I had no idea if he could hear me or not, but he seemed to. "And I'm not a monster," I concluded.

He didn't answer for a very long time. In fact, he never answered at all. When he next spoke, it was only to say, "You should return now."

"Why?" I couldn't resist the dig. "We were having so much fun!"

He glanced to me. There was a seriousness in his eyes that I could not deny; a sort of… grave determination. Grim. He did not repeat his words, but the meaning was clear; it wasn't a choice matter.

But there was something else in his eye… something… _knowing. _Like there was something I was missing, something important and dangerous. And there was the slightest appearance of tragedy, as though something bad was going to happen that he could not prevent; something that he had to allow to happen. I shivered a little; ok, now I was just being paranoid. He couldn't see through time, I was sure; he couldn't see the _future. _

I turned around and started to walk away.

"Lady Frost," Heimdal said, not quite calling to me, but saying it loudly enough that I stopped and turned to him. His eyes seemed a little distant, as though he was observing something that I could not see, his gaze just a centimeter off from my own.

"There has been an incident on the path you traveled to come here." He blinked once, and his gaze shifted to find mine properly. "I would suggest a different route."

I nodded. "_Gracias_," I answered easily, then realized he probably didn't know what that meant and added quickly, "Thanks." He nodded once, solemnly, and I walked away. That grim determination had still been written all over his face. I considered what he'd said, and where a 'different route' to my room might lead me. The only alternate path that I was aware of passed directly by the prisons; _Loki's _prison.

That couldn't be a coincidence.

_Paranoid, _I insisted, forcing myself to walk down the bridge, back into the palace. It was just my brain, thinking too much on everything. But I couldn't help but feel as though I was walking to my own death as I started down the hallway he'd suggested. It felt as though I was walking _towards _an 'incident', rather than _away _from one, as he'd directed me. He _knew _something was going to happen, I was _sure _of it.

_Stop it, Natalie, _I scolded myself. _Just stop right there. Heimdal is on the same side as you. Stop being so damn paranoid._

I forced my thoughts away from that, back to what he'd actually said. I was a threat to Asgard. It seemed… unreal. Just a few months ago, the biggest threat I posed was smacking into someone's car with my bike. Now people were convinced that I could destroy not one, but _two _worlds?

Sheesh.

I walked down the hallway, taking a few hesitant steps as I approached the prison doors. The guards watched me carefully, but I made no move towards them. It was strange, how statue-esque they could be; if you just ignored them, it was like they didn't exist. So long as you didn't do anything stupid, like try to break someone out of jail, they left you alone.

I hesitated in front of the doors. Loki was inside, probably snoring away like a baby. Man, I wished I had a sharpie…

"I'm surprised it took you this long."

The words made me jump; they were spoken in just the quietest of mummers from behind the door, helped along by the link in my head. It was only then that I realized that Loki was awake; that he'd been awake for a little while now. I felt his head in the back of mine, stirring, thinking, planning. I almost searched his thoughts to see what he was saying, when I heard another voice; another mutter from beyond the door, made clearer by Loki's thoughts in my head.

"Then you know why I am here?" Thor's voice. Hurt. Weak. And, from Loki's point of view, vulnerable.

"Of course," Loki answered; he could not sense my eavesdropping; he was too focused on Thor to pay attention to the mortal listening in. He chuckled a little, quietly. As arrogant as always.

"Tell me, brother. When did you first begin to wonder if her name was more than just another name? To wonder if she was _that _Frost?"

An icy chill gripped my stomach, my spine. I didn't know where this was going in the slightest; but I knew one thing: I _definitely_ didn't like it.

Thor's answer came after a moment's remorseful deliberation. "When she first told me of the last words her father said to her." There was pain in his words. Pain and… guilt. I thought back to the time when I'd told Thor of the last thing I'd heard my father say.

_Can't you see that it's a __**monster?**_

Thor had been shocked. Horrified. But there had been guilt in his eyes, too. It had seemed so out of place…

I was suddenly very certain that Heimdal _had _meant for me to hear this. And I didn't much like that thought, either. But still, I couldn't stop myself from listening in, couldn't force my feet to move away, couldn't keep myself from hearing every last word.

I could feel Loki's smile as Thor asked in a weak voice, "Is she?" The Trickster did not respond. "_Is_ she _that _Frost?" Thor pressed.

Still no response.

Thor lost his cool a little. "Tell me, brother!" He shouted, suddenly advancing towards Loki- who had been standing this time, not sitting- and seizing his collar. "Tell me!" He roared, his voice cracking just a touch. He was desperate. He was desperate and Loki knew it.

And then he shouted, "_Is she the daughter of Cameron Frost?"_

Everything in me turned to ice. I stopped breathing, but I was barely aware of it. My mouth opened a little in a horror-struck 'o', and my fingertips began to tremble as they rose to cover it. I couldn't tell you what my heart was doing; my heart didn't seem to exist anymore. There was absolutely nothing in my chest.

I had no idea what this meant. But I knew it was big. Bigger than anything else; especially if it concerned my father. My blood buzzed in my veins.

I listened intently for Loki's answer, though I knew what it would be. The Norse god of Mischief chuckled darkly. "But of course," he answered in his usual conceited, lofty way. "Who else would she be?"

Thor dropped him, all but pushing him away. He would never hurt his brother, but I- or rather Loki- could sense his fury, emanating in waves off of his form.

"You will tell her," Thor ordered, his voice slightly strained. "You will tell her _everything. _Everything you ever did to her, to her father!"

"And why would I do that?" Loki's answer was immediate and still so full of hauteur. He started to walk around slowly, steadily, so that he was almost circling Thor. "What would the truth do for her, except cause her more pain?" There was a smirk playing on his lips. "Do you not wish to _avoid _that pain?"

I'd heard enough. Still in shock, but now with rage starting to creep in, I demanded in an unbelievably harsh snarl in my head, _What. Did you. __**Do?**_

I felt Loki stumble backwards, doubling over as pain lanced through him. I hadn't known I was capable of doing that quite so easily, of causing pain through our link like that. He gasped, looking upwards to Thor, fear exploding behind his eyes.

_Natalie, _he exclaimed immediately, stunned, without having a chance to form a coherent response. I had taken him completely and utterly off guard; a difficult thing to do, with him. He scrambled to think of an explanation, an excuse, scanning my thoughts to see what I'd heard… But I kept him out. A black wall formed between my thoughts and his; let him sweat. I didn't care.

Loki turned instead to Thor. There was shock in his brother's eyes, but as he realized what was happening, they were soon drained of all compassion and mercy. He stepped back a touch, eyes like flint, watching without interfering. Letting the two of us settle this by ourselves.

_WHAT DID YOU DO? _I roared at Loki, taking a step forwards. The action, combined with the rage of the question, suddenly sent me rocketing through the door, a part of me stretching out and suddenly… appearing in his room.

That was how it felt, at least. It took me a few moments- and Loki's stunned expression- to realize that I had projected myself into the room, just as Loki had projected himself into my head so many times, making an illusion of himself that I could actually _see_. It was a strange effect; I could feel myself in both worlds, could see both worlds almost… overlapping each other. At all times, one remained fuzzy and unclear, while the other was focused and sharp. If I took a step in my mental vision, I took a step in the real world; and vice versa. I could see everything, I could _see _Loki in front of me, and Thor… but anything that was not already intricately mapped out in Loki's head or immediately seen by his current real-world vision was black and unclear. Thor, for example, remained perfectly clear and sharp, as Loki was looking almost directly at him; and things that Loki could see out of the corner of his eye, _I _could see as well, even though I observed them from different angles. It was… surreal.

And when I spoke… I had to _speak. _Out loud. Sure, I _could _just say the words in my head, but then my lips wouldn't move, and it wouldn't have the same effect; wouldn't sound so much like I was actually talking to him, instead of using our usual mental communication. So I spoke aloud; knowing full well that the guards outside of the prison were watching me talking to air like a crazy person.

At that point… I didn't care. I didn't care about _anything._

Fiery rage was melting the ice that had stunned me into silence; now I was burning, alight with a sudden bloodlust, a craving for vengeance. Vengeance against _what, _I wasn't sure, but I knew I wanted it. More than anything.

Loki seemed even more taken aback by my appearance in the room, but I didn't let that stop me. I took a few dangerous steps towards him. "What." Step. "Did." Step. "You." Step. _**"Do?"**_

He didn't answer. His eyes were huge and round and… pleading. He didn't want to tell me. He didn't want to answer; whether because he feared what I'd do once I found out, or if he was really concerned about hurting me… I couldn't tell. I just knew that he was scared, scared to tell me this thing that would destroy me…

But I didn't care if it destroyed me. I had to know. I had to know _everything. _

And then I screamed.

I shouted the same two words, the same, keening, desperate cry that had come from Loki's lips once before… He had needed to know why he was chosen, why he was taken, why his whole life had been a lie…

The same scream rippled through me, tearing and clawing at the air as the words reverberated out from the very core of my being, from the very basest parts of my soul.

"_TELL ME!"_

Loki's eyes grew even rounder. More innocent and childlike. As though he recognized, for the first time, exactly what he'd done. But I didn't know what that was.

How could I have known?

For a moment, the deafening silence rang in the air, lingered over us and cloaked us like shadows. Then, slowly, the smile returned to Loki's face. A painful arrogance sparked in his eyes.

"What have I done?" He asked in a near-silent whisper. Then he laughed. A bitter laugh. Cruel. His face turned downwards, but his eyes flickered back up to me.

"I lied to you, Miss Frost," He answered, in an unfathomable tone, so tired and yet so cold.

"As I have _always_ lied to you."

The warning. Everything he had ever told me. He had said this before.

The cruelest thing he had ever done to me.

The thing that pushed even the limits of _my _forgiveness.

He let out a breath of a laugh, reaching out a hand. "Shall I show you the truth?"

I could not take his hand, I knew. We both knew it; I was an illusion. But I reached towards him anyway. I had to know. I had to know everything.

His teeth gleamed white as he smiled. Just before my hand would've touched him if I had been solid, he sent pain flaring through both of us; and, as one, our eyes rolled to the back of our heads, and we collapsed onto the ground.

* * *

_Excited. Impatient. We've fought with the others all day; Sif and the Warriors Three… playing pretend at being warriors, fighting off the Jotun invasion… _

_But now it's finally time._

_I hide my excitement well, watching as Thor smiles at mother, finishes talking with her, then turns that enormous grin of his to me. I grin in return. _

I was pulled out at the sight of Thor, looking so young; not overly so, but almost a teenager; and I knew, at least, that his mentality matched that of a teenager. I had often wondered if Asgardians mature at a different rate than we do; than their bodies do. It seemed to be the case in some ways; like how Thor was still learning to 'become a man' when he'd first been sent to Midguard, and yet was older than you'd expect for such an epiphany… My psych-oriented thoughts broke me out of the illusion for a moment; though it was less of an illusion and more of an echo. A memory. Loki's memory; I could feel everything that he felt, see everything through _his _eyes… It was strange. But then the memory pulled me back under, drowning me. Burning out everything that remained of Natalie Frost, until only Loki Laufeyson remained.

_Thor runs up to me, and in turn I walk with him outside of the gates. Father has finally agreed to let us go to Midguard again; for the first time in months, we'll be able to go together. I can finally show him. He'll finally see it. _

_My project. _

_He'll finally see __**them**__._

_I can't help but feel a swell of pride as the two of us journey to the Bifrost together. We walk, as opposed to taking the horses, simply content to talk with each other. But I am impatient. I can barely keep my words on the subject at hand long enough for us to step through the bridge and be on our way. _

_Thor seems to have noticed my impatience; for the second we land on Midguard, he turns to me, still smiling. "I know that look, brother."_

_I just give him an answering smile, my best and biggest, and he laughs, slapping me on the back. "Mischief and Mayhem follow you everywhere, did you know that?" But he is almost as excited as I am. _

_I beckon to him, and the two of us travel in silence as we run. The Bifrost placed us a bit further than I'd hoped, but I could not draw suspicion to this place. I cloak us both in magic before we reach it, careful not to catch the prying eyes of any mortal. _

_We reach the house; simple, small… but home to my finest work of art yet. I lead Thor onwards, the two of us entirely silent as we creep to the window where I have peered inside before. It opens to a living room, and the blinds are almost always open, allowing us a fair view of the ensuing chaos. Even when the blinds are not open, it is never a problem to remove them from the equation. _

_Thankfully, today, that is not necessary. And all three of the family members are in the room._

_Things could not be more perfect. _

_I smile at Thor, able to see him through my own invisible shielding; he smiles back. Mortals. In the old days, when we were younger, Thor would love to show off to them, sending lightning exploding and shattering across the skies. These days, such a feat is harder, but they still offer their fair share of entertainment from time to time. _

_If only Thor knew what I have been doing. _

"_I've been working on it for months," I tell him. "It's a different form of magic; something I've been studying."_

_He nods eagerly. He is always willing to see any new form of magic, and I am always more than happy to show it to him. It is not often that I can outshine him in something. _

_I show him the family inside. A young couple, and their daughter; almost a year old now. I have been working on this since shortly after her birth. I have gotten far more skilled with each passing day. I seem to have an aptitude for this particular form of magic; I have always found forms along this line to be far easier than most others have. _

_The mother sits in the living room, watching their television like it's the most fascinating thing in the world. The father holds the baby on his lap. The little girl looks around the room with big, round, brown eyes. Watching everything, always so observant for a child. _

_I wink at Thor and concentrate. Focusing on the magical energy that flows inside of me. I feel a cold mist building beneath my fingertips, and I weave it carefully, syncing my thoughts up with the man inside. My mind pressing against his. Our thoughts together for only a brief moment; not connected, not entirely, merely… touching. _

_I catch a thought. Twist it. Catch another. Destroy it. Catch a third. Manipulate it. Bend it. Make it unrecognizable._

_Cold sweeps through my heart, and I shiver. The whole process takes only seconds, but it completely exhausts me. Allowing my usual stiffness to waver for just a second, I lean against the wall for support. Thor watches, frowning. _

"_What did you do?" He asks, looking inside. _

"_Watch," I prod, gesturing to the man. "Cameron Frost. His name is Cameron Frost. Watch him."_

_Thor nods and obeys, ready for the fireworks. I smile tiredly. If he only knew…_

_At first, nothing seems to happen. But then the young girl looks to her father. Her big, brown eyes search him carefully, and her tiny hand reaches up towards his face. Miniature fingers brush against his cheek, and he flinches suddenly. _

_He looks down in horror at the little baby on his lap, as though he has just noticed her presence there. She smiles hugely at him. Carefully, cautiously, with all of the vigilance of a man approaching a troll, he lifts the girl from his lap and carries her towards the nearby crib. Places her inside. Pulls up the railing to lock her in. _

_And all but runs back to the other end of the room._

_His wife looks at him. There is annoyance in her eyes; the first time I did this, there was fear… but now she is only hurt. Upset. Angry. _

"_What is __**wrong **__with you?" She demands to know, folding her arms over her chest. _

"_Did you see it?" He asks, his eyes wide. Fear haunts his features. "Did you see what it __**did?**__"_

_She scowls in reply. "What? __**Smile **__at you?" _

"_No! That… that __**look **__in her eye… She could've killed me, I swear it, if she was able to she would have…"_

"_Oh, for Pete's sake!" The woman throws her hands up in exasperation. "She's a __**baby**__. She doesn't want to hurt you; all she ever wants to do is eat and sleep!" _

"_But…"_

"_**No! **__I'm not having this discussion again, Cameron. Your daughter is no more a danger to you than I am. Let it __**go.**__"_

_He hesitates. But then the child makes a noise, her small fingers going up into the air, tracing imaginary patterns on the ceiling, and he flinches. Quickly, he grabs a jacket, throws it over his shoulders. _

"_I have to go," he says, a touch of desperation in his voice. He kisses the top of his wife's head and all but runs to the door. "I'll see you soon."_

_Before she can protest, he's gone, out the door and running away. _

_I start laughing; knowing that they can not hear me. I turn away from the spectacle, leaning against the wall. I look to Thor, expecting to see that enormous grin on his face, expecting him to laugh with me. To be proud of my new skill. _

_Instead he looks… horrified. _

"_Loki…" he breathes. "What… What have you __**done?**__"_

_Disappointment floods me; how could he not be proud of this? It was something new. Exciting. A highly advanced form of magic, and I accomplished it. Surely he would be proud of me…?  
_

_But of course not. I taste something sour in my mouth. "It's just a bit of fun, brother."_

"_**Fun?**__" He almost shouts. "Loki, you are causing irreversible damage to that man! He may never be able to even look at his daughter anymore! You could destroy that family!"_

_I glare at the ground. The back of my neck feels hot, and the inside of my stomach is hollow. "They're only mortals," I mumble. _

"_That is __**no **__excuse," he says, towering above me. Each word stings like a whip's blow; punishing, cutting. "Just because they are mortal does not make them beneath us!"_

"_What makes this different from you convincing mortals that you were a god?" I ask, turning my glare to him. "You twisted their minds into believing these things. They would have died, or killed, if you asked them to. What makes this so different?"_

"_I did not ask them to believe those things!" But I can tell that he is shaken by the turn this conversation has taken. I smile inwardly, a dark pleasure running through me. _

"_I did not-" He tries to go on, but something catches his eye and he stops. I just roll my eyes._

"_But you didn't try to correct their mistake, did you?" I snarl. _

"_Loki…" He tries to catch my attention. _

_I am all but deaf to his words. "What makes __**your **__decision so much better than __**mine**__?" I demand. My hands are in fists, trembling at my sides. Each question comes directly on the heels of the other. "What makes you think that __**you're**__ in the right?" And suddenly, I have lost control of what I am saying, and the words are unstoppable, the words that I have kept inside for so long… "What makes you __**better**__ than m-"_

"_Loki!" He hisses. I stop, mid-word, suddenly seeing the urgency in his eyes. The nervousness. He gestures into the room. _

"_Can she… Can she see us?" he asks, his voice lowering. _

_I stare. It is not possible. And yet, the littlest Frost, the child, stares up at us both with big, brown eyes. As I turn to her, her eyes find mine, unwavering. She is sitting up, watching us both, observing carefully and somehow… __**seeing **__us. _

_But it is not __**possible…**_

_And still, those brown eyes stare deep into my soul… as if she knows what is to come…_

* * *

"_Don't be such a child, Thor. What's the worst that can happen?"_

"_This is wrong." My brother looks uncomfortable. "You can't keep doing this, Loki. That mortal…"_

"_She is of no consequence," I blow him off. _

"_I was talking about __**him**_,_" he corrects me. He shakes his head quickly. "This isn't what father would want."_

"_Father isn't here." Honestly. _

_Thor bites his lip. "If you do it again, I'll tell him. I'll tell him everything."_

I realized with shock that I knew this memory. That I had dreamed it before. I knew everything that was going to happen next… and yet, I had never understood it before, never seen it in context… My heart pounding, even in this unconscious state, I allowed the memory to drag me under again…

_I scoff, hiding the fear that surges through me. "If you tell father, he'll ask you why you didn't stop me sooner. Why you let it go on so long. You are as guilty as I."_

_He shuffles a little more. "That's not…" he tries, and trails off. I smirk at him and turn back to my little project. _

"_Of course its true," I say softly. "You know it as well as I do."_

_Silver Tongue. That's what people call me sometimes. But I know that, whatever I am, when I speak, people listen. _

_I will make an excellent king someday._

_Thor turns around. "Well, I won't be a part of it any longer," he growls. I don't look at him. Leave it to the golden child to ruin everything fun in life._

_He walks away and I turn my gaze back to the mortals at hand. Smiling to myself, I go back to work. I don't need Thor's approval. I never have._

_Brown eyes meet mine, despite how they can not see me. As they always meet mine, at least once, every time I visit. I do not know how she manages it; nor do I care. _

_I smile gently. This will be fun._

* * *

_Years pass, as years always pass. And now, after seven years-the blink of an eye- comes the final hour. _

_I have long sensed that Cameron Frost's mind shall soon snap; that I must let this project go, or have it end in failure. Failure is not an option, so I have waited patiently for this day, crafting these thoughts, fine-tuning them to perfection. My skills in this matter have improved immensely, so that twisting one thought or memory no longer exhausts me. I can lay out complicated thoughts and plans, twist his entire mind in a symphony of chaos. _

_I have been working for this for so long…_

_And one last touch…_

_The two start screaming; Cameron and his wife. My eyes, however, are glued to the child, staring at them both in rapt attention, looking… almost emotionless. As though the spectacle before her eyes is too much for her to think about, too much for her to feel anything. I twist another thought, place an argument in Cameron's mind:_

"_I can no longer love you, if you love that monster." _

_It is just a thought; but that one thought builds and builds, his entire screaming match centered around it, until suddenly it explodes from him like fire. _

"_I can't love you," he tells her; and tears are streaking down his cheeks. The child remains silent, ever-vigilant in her observance. Cameron continues, "Because you love… that thing."_

_He looks to Natalie as he says this; there is pure, unfiltered hatred in his eyes, utter loathing in his words. Natalie still does not move. _

_But then he turns back to his wife, pleading, begging. "Can't you see that it's tearing us apart? Can't you see that it's a __**monster**__?"_

_He holds her arms carefully; his wife shakes her head slowly, tears flowing from her eyes. Cameron looks pleading at first, then enraged. Hands in fists, jaw clenched, he turns and stalks out the door, leaving his wife to fall onto her knees, sobbing. _

_Natalie still does not react. She does nothing. An older child now, seven years old… but as I smile, the game complete, my victory in hand… her eyes turn to me._

_They lock on._

_Don't move. _

_Just… watching._

_But something is different now. Something in her has been torn out. Made hollow. _

_A single tear streaks down from her empty brown eyes…_

* * *

I gasped into reality, bolting upright from where I lay on the stone prison floor, sitting straight up, my spine rigid. Beside me, Loki slowly rose as well, with his usual careless grace. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Avengers, lingering in the back of the prison, seeming startled by my sudden return to consciousness. Odin, too, stood at a slightly lesser distance from us. Vaguely, somewhere in the farthest corner of my mind, I realized that he must have been brought here- that they all must have come here- after Loki's and my sudden collapse, not knowing what was happening. Odin would have been asked to see what was wrong, to try and fix it if it could, indeed, be fixed.

But at the moment, I didn't care about them. About any of them. I only had eyes for Loki.

As he started to pull himself together, to stand, I scrambled upright, eyes wide in horror. My heart, which had felt so empty and hollow earlier, was now in so much pain that I was sure it had stopped working, sure that it was useless to me. It felt ripped and tattered, entirely worthless. I was certain that I had seconds before I dropped to the ground again, my heart too weak and weary to go on.

I couldn't stop the tears; it didn't matter that I was standing in front of every one of the Avengers, didn't matter that Odin was just a few feet away, didn't matter that Loki was still smiling as though my tears were the most wonderful thing he'd ever seen. Nothing _mattered. _The tears came unbidden, unwanted, streaming down in ugly torrents.

"It was you," I breathed; it seemed so impossible to draw breath, to say anything… but the accusations poured out of me anyway. Repeating themselves. "It was you, it was always _you._"

Loki brushed something off of his sleeve; the Avengers all tensed, as though waiting for him to try anything. He just gave them a soft smirk and replied, in a light tone, "Of course."

My hands went up to the sides of my face, my fingers pushing my hair out of the way as they clawed over my ears, as though I could cover them and block out this truth forever. But it was there. It lingered in the air between us like a plague. I was breathing it in. It was infecting me, riddling me with sickness and filth.

"E-Everything…" I stammered. My eyes squeezed shut, sending more tears down my cheeks. "Everything in my life… everything I have ever done… has been to prove him wrong." I looked to him, aghast. "And it was you. It was just… another lie."

He kept smiling, but his voice lowered, so that it was barely audible. "Always."

My entire body shook. The pain kept coming for me, fresh waves of it striking me over and over again. "How… Why… I…" I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe. The world vanished around me; there was nothing, not the blackness, not the Avengers, not Odin or this prison cell. Nothing but me and Loki and what he had done.

The truth at last.

The truth that exposed me as the lie that I was.

Everything in my life had been centered around that moment, that second in time. That was the moment that had broken me. The moment that had made me. It was everything.

And it was a _lie._

In the end… I was just like him. This fact came spilling through my lips without my permission, and I let it flow, let the words come out. Because nothing else would. "Your whole life was a lie…" I whispered, my voice cracking. "So you told another." My spine trembled. "Because lies can't stay still, can they?" My hands shook. My aching heart throbbed, a raw wound, infected by the sickness in his smile. "They _fester_….and _breed._" A touch of anger had crept into my voice now, and I couldn't reign it in, couldn't pull it back. My eyes whipped up to him, just as they had all those years ago, finding him no matter how he hid. No matter how invisible he thought himself to be. I had always been able to see him, to see right through him. Since the very beginning.

And then more words were tumbling out. More truths. Desperate questions that suddenly needed answers. "Tell me, Loki," I growled dangerously, "Why was it so wrong?" There was fury in my tears now, which burned scalding hot lines down my cheeks.

"Why was it so wrong for _him_ to tell the lie that was your life…" On 'him', I gestured to Odin with one wild hand, not really caring that he was seeing this, not really caring what anyone else thought. Caring only about Loki. "But _you_ can do the same to _me?"_ I concluded, my pitch moving upwards in a shriek. "What makes you _any better!?"_

Loki didn't answer. Despite the cold smile remaining on his face, despite the conceit that lingered in his stance, despite the way he was looking down on me with a look intended to make me feel like the most insignificant flea… There was something in his eyes. They had turned dead. Distant. He'd flicked a switch and turned off his emotions; just like I always did. He was determined not to feel. Determined to show no pain, no weakness.

I had to _break _him.

I laughed a little; a painful, mocking, hysterical laugh that tore me in half. "And showing me off to big brother, your friggin' golden _trophy,_" the shriek had died as quickly as it had come, fading off into a whisper. No, not a whisper; that was too gentle a description; it was more of a rasp. It was dangerous. Deadly. Lethal. "Trying to make him proud of you. Because nothing _else_ worked, right?" I laughed again, shaking my head back and forth a few times; each laugh was short-lived and agonizing, less of an expression of joy and more of a tool of torture.

"A trophy." I repeated in a breath, the word nigh inaudible. I was looking at the ground now, not at his dead, hollow stare, not at his smiling lips. "A victory." My hair was in front of my face, hiding my features as I started to tremble even more violently. The mixture of agony and anger did strange things to my voice as I all but mumbled out the words that only two other people in this entire room would recognize. But only one of those people mattered. "A stolen relic, locked away until you might have _use _of me…"

On 'use', my eyes flicked up to him, though my face was still angled downwards. It gave me no small amount of dark pleasure to see recognition pass over Loki's features, to see his eyes tighten just briefly… but then all emotion was gone again, his face cold and smooth and impassive, with only that little smile curled on his lips to reassure me that yes, he was still the king of his own world, and my words- the words of a peasant- could not touch him there.

There was fire in my blood. I could feel it, fire untouched, untamed. My fingers trembled even faster, my spine quivering, my hands tightening into fists as I tasted blood. I was torn between fury and pain, but the fury was winning, and it was burning right through me. But what was there left to burn? I was a lie. I didn't exist.

I saw it then, the glow that flared out across my skin, vibrant and golden and bright and almost alive. It burned brighter than anything else, feeding off of my rage as my eyes locked on Loki. There were no more words. What more words could come, what more could be said? What words could a Lie speak? What words could the Liar respond with? It didn't matter who said what; in the end, it was all deception and treachery and deceit. We had been reduced to these titles; the Liar and the Lie he told, standing beside each other, the Traitor and his Betrayal, the Trickster and his last, final, Trick.

And one of us was going to kill the other.

In that second, I knew. If I didn't do it now, I would do it later. There were no more restrictions, there was nothing holding me back, not anymore. My boundaries had been lies. My deeds, good and bad, had been lies. My morals had been lies.

So what was to stop me now, from doing everything I never could before?

Before I could launch myself at Loki, before I could rip his throat out, before I could allow my force field to explode around me, that question was answered as someone stopped me. A gentle hand placed itself on my shoulder, a warning voice, a careful gesture, a cautious tone. "Natalie…"

Tony's voice. Tony's hand. My hatred coursed through me, and I threw his arm off of my shoulder; but it had been enough. I turned away from Loki, tears still burning trails down my cheeks, hands still clenched at my sides, and I stalked away too the door. A sob built in my chest, but I kept it back for now, I would not show that in front of Loki, I _could _not show that in front of _Loki…_

And I had to get away… I had to get away while I still could, while Tony's warning kept me from doing that which I would-hopefully- regret later, kept me from digging claws into his eyes and tearing him apart piece by piece…

But as I tore towards the door, seething, my glow lighting my way, I could not resist giving Loki one final, accusatory glare. As I burst out the door, the glow made certain that, even through the darkness, I could still see the Avengers, Odin, and Loki, all standing in that singular patch of light. I shone out like a beacon, like a flame.

And as my eyes locked on Loki, as they narrowed on him dangerously, as they communicated all of my painful hatred, all of my fierce vengeance…

He was _still smiling. _

And then I was lost. Whatever remained of me and my rules, me and the lines that I would not cross… it vanished in that instant. Everything horrible and wrong and vile within me boiled to the surface, bubbling up my throat and coming out in one, cutting remark. One statement that crossed a line; not crossing _the _line, but definitely crossing _a _line. It was, quite possibly, the worst thing I would ever say to him, the worst thing I _could _ever say. And I knew that. I knew that it was cruel, I knew that it was monstrous.

But I also knew that I could've cared less.

We were only enemies, in the end.

"And Loki?" I demanded, gripping the door so tightly that my knuckles turned white. My eyes flicked to Odin and back. He was here. He would hear this. But I didn't _care. _"Your father knows!"

He did not need to ask _what _his father knew. Though the Avengers looked at me in confusion, Loki knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, what I was talking about. His father knew of his weakest moment. Knew of the real reason for the bruises on his face. Knew of what the guard had done to him.

His father knew of the one weakness he had left to hide.

For the first time, pain lanced through his eyes, sharp and unbidden, clearly unwanted. It felt so agonizingly _good, _this stabbing pain through my heart as I saw what it did to him, this terrible revenge that I had fulfilled.

Grinning through the appalling pain, malice in my eyes, tears still pouring down, I slammed the door behind me.

* * *

I don't know how long I sat in my room, sobbing. I don't know how many times I lost all sense of control and started throwing things; the pillows, the blankets, the bed, the chairs, the books. Whatever was in my room was soon strewn about, a chaotic mess, reflecting almost perfectly the jumble in my head.

I couldn't think. I could barely breathe. My thoughts were all scrambled and meshed together, my emotions just as crazy. My heart felt sore and useless, and there were times when I'd just slam my fist into my chest, trying to get it beating again, when I knew it couldn't have stopped.

I know that I screamed. Many, many times I screamed. Into the pillows, into the air, screaming at the world and raging at the empty halls. Everything felt useless to me now; everything in my life had been focused around my father. It was always about him. Everything was about _him. _Proving him wrong, proving I wasn't a monster.

And now… everything in my life had really just been about…_Loki. _

It all made so much sense to me now; why he chose me, why that one pizza delivery changed everything… But at the same time, nothing made sense. My world had been more than turned upside down; it had been pulled inside out, shaken around, chopped up in a blender and thrown back into my face, leaving me to pick up the fragile pieces.

And it was _his fault._

There were times when my anger would reach unbelievable levels; times when again, I _knew, _deep in the coldest parts of my heart and soul, that I would kill Loki in an instant if he ever dared to show his face. Where I _knew _that I was capable of murder. But there were other times when I felt even more torn up about what I said to him, about what I had been willing to say. I was at war with myself; but the problem was, I didn't know who 'myself' _was _anymore.

Natalie Frost… psychiatrist? No. I'd become a psychiatrist so that I could 'do it right'. My only motivation for that had been when I'd seen my own shrink; an annoying person whose idea of 'therapy' was to push pills down my throat. And why had I seen that shrink in the first place? Because my own father left me and thought that I was a monster. Because Loki had twisted his mind into thinking that I was a monster in the first place.

Natalie Frost… college student? No. I had dropped out because of this mess; because of Loki. And he never would have done this if not for our past ties.

Natalie Frost… monster?

Who knew any more?

At other times, I knelt in front of the mirror for hours, staring into my own eyes, my hand placed on my reflection's. "What am I?" I breathed. "_What am I?_"

Natalie Frost… Avenger?

No. I had never been.

Natalie Frost… Loki's subject?

It chilled me to the bone to think that this was my most accurate description.

I don't know how long it took before I could pull myself even partially together again. I don't know how long it was before I heard someone knock, before I called for them to come in. I don't know how long it was before Clint entered the room, sent by the other Avengers to check up on me. But I know what I was doing when he arrived; cleaning up the mess that I had made, the chaos that I had strewn about. Clint looked around, surprised at the perfect order of my room - Thor had apparently expected the worst, hearing what was happening inside, and had not expected me to clear it up again. As Barton walked up next to me, I finished making the bed, working with a grim determination. The rest of the room was perfectly tidy, and I was wearing the clothes that I'd had on when I'd first come here; the armor that I'd been given was placed neatly on the base of the bed.

I glanced to him and, seeing who it was, I stopped moving. I stood still for a moment, hovering over the bed, no longer trying to pull myself together; now only trying to _keep_ myself together. Every time I had tried to stop crying before, the tears had kept coming. I had no idea that there was that much water in my system to begin with. I was incredibly worn out, but a nervous energy kept me on my toes.

There was silence for a long, long time as his eyes met mine.

"I have to get out of here," I told him at last, the words a rush; he hadn't even said hello, had let me have the first word.

"All right," he answered easily.

"No. I have to get out of here _now._" I emphasized.

"It's fine, Natalie. We'll go."

I turned to him completely, and the sight of him just made my eyes prickle again. Dammit.

"We'll tell Thor, and have him bring the Tesseract. We'll go back to the Tower."

I nodded, feeling… weak. Woozy. I just wanted to collapse. But I knew I couldn't, I knew I just _couldn't _spend one more second here, this close to _him. _

"Come on," Clint said, strangely gentle for him. He beckoned to me, and I followed numbly. The two of us left the room; the other Avengers were all standing outside, waiting impatiently, worried looks on most faces. Steve came over to me as soon as I left, and I wrapped my arms around him, unable to stop myself. He didn't seem to care, his own thick arms wrapping around my shoulders. My breath hitched. I was on the fragile edge of tears.

"I wanna go home," I repeated to Steve, who broke away from the hug and nodded.

"Of course, Natalie," he answered easily, glancing to Thor. Thor nodded solemnly; I could see there was pain in his eyes. Loki was his brother; everything he did to hurt someone else… it must've affected Thor a thousand times over. And anything I did to hurt Loki, no matter how justified… must also hurt him. I couldn't stand the thought that I was causing anyone pain, that I may just be becoming a monster… a tear finally squeezed out, but I brushed it away quickly, before any more could follow. You'd think I'd be done with tears by now.

Thor lead us to another room, where we gathered around and waited for him to retrieve the Tesseract. I said nothing to anyone, staring into space vacantly. Thor must've told the others what Loki had done to me, because they were all giving me sympathetic or understanding looks… But I couldn't bring myself to care about it, about them. I alternated between powerful rage, extreme agony, and complete numbness. As we waited, my pain slowly anesthetized, so that I felt dead and empty by the time Thor finally brought the Tesseract to us.

Like before, the closer I got to the cube, the better I felt; physically. Mentally, I was still a wreck. I felt my own words to Loki coming back, over and over again, to slap me in the face.

_How did you feel, when you found out what a load of __**bullshit **__that really was?_

He'd soon taught me how it felt; but that didn't seem to be good enough for him. Not only did I have to feel _his _pain, but apparently I had to deal with my own version of it as well. Bastard.

I reached towards the Tesseract without being told; my arm felt heavy, and it was all I could do to rest my trembling fingers on the golden handle before it dropped back to my side. The others joined me after a moment, Tony and Steve exchanging a nervous glance, then looking back to me.

Thor waited until everyone's hands were resting on the device, then twisted his handle.

Traveling with the Tesseract the second time was just as bad as the first. As we dropped onto earth and I released the handle, I still felt like I was going to throw up. I still felt dizzy. But all of this… it was nothing. Background noise, compared to all of the misery tumbling about inside me.

I looked around. My room was two floors up. I didn't feel like taking the stairs, or even walking to the elevator; so I just shuffled over to the couch, mumbling something along the lines of, "Imma going bed."

Tony saw where I was heading and asked, "Don't you mean you're going to couch?"

I grunted something in reply and collapsed onto the cushions, turning away from them all. I hadn't expected him to take anything seriously anyway.

There was a long beat of silence. Then, in a very, very quiet and unusually serious whisper, Tony spoke to the others. His grave tone was strangely at odds with his words. "This is serious. I just gave her a perfect shot and _pfft! _Nothing!"

Clint concurred. He, too, sounded dead serious as he spoke words that should have been a joke. "Natalie without sarcasm…" he sighed heavily, and if I had cared, I could have imagined him shaking his head back and forth. If I had cared. "The world's definitely a darker place," he mumbled.

Someone draped a blanket over me- I couldn't see who, nor did I really want to- and tucked a pillow under my head. "She's exhausted." Banner's voice. A little too close. It must have been him.

"Let's give her some space," Natasha suggested in a soft tone; from the way the others were talking, they probably already thought that I was asleep. From the way I felt, I probably was.

I heard a few people leave the room. Most of them, in fact. But after a moment, a single set of footsteps made their way towards me. They stopped, and I could feel someone standing directly behind me.

"I…" It was Thor's voice. For perhaps the first time, it was… hesitant. As though he was unsure of what to say. I could almost see his face in my mind, see him as his brother would have seen him… his eyes just a bit too glassy, guilt heavy on his shoulders, just the barest trace of weakness in his voice… "I am… _truly…_ sorry, Miss Frost."

He stayed there for a moment. Waiting for a response. Any response.

I wanted to tell him that it was all right. That it wasn't his fault, that it was Loki, that I would bounce back from this and that I could forgive them both. I wanted to ease his guilt. I wanted to do what a good shrink should do and push my own issues aside, to think solely of him. I wanted to stop the pain that Loki had caused. Natalie Frost would have.

But I didn't.

Because I wasn't Natalie Frost.

Not anymore.

Instead, I kept my eyes closed. I let him think that I was asleep. He did not press it, and moments later, he left the room, leaving me to the silence.


	15. And So It Begins

This was how I spent the next few weeks in Stark Tower. My head continued to pound, my emotions ricocheting back and forth, over and over, again and again. And endless cycle of abject misery.

Sometimes I would cry. Sometimes I would sit in my room and just… scream. Sometimes my anger would build and build until I started to glow, and I would take it out on the poor punching bags in the gyms (which were already taking some severe beatings from the superheroes). Sometimes, these emotions would become so jumbled and crazy that I'd end up doing all three; or bounce between them so quickly that it could give someone emotional whiplash. It was not an uncommon thing for me to be beating one of those punching bags, in a full-on rage, and suddenly burst into tears, falling to my knees in front of the thing and bawling my eyes out.

But these displays of extreme emotion were, perhaps, the highlight of my life, as they were mostly tuned out by my complete and utter apathy.

For the most part, I wandered Stark Tower aimlessly; haunting the place like a restless ghost. I would find myself in rooms with no idea how I got there, and no real inclination to find out. I'd wander into a room, and whatever Avenger was inside would look at me. Sometimes they'd say something; a friendly hello, maybe. An 'are you all right'. Tony continually threw easy, sarcastic comments into the air, waiting for my sharp retort. But most of the time their attempts to speak to me fell on deaf ears; like I was under water, with everything they said becoming blurred and indistinct. A few of them quickly realized how pointless it was to speak to me, and a few of them did not; but eventually I just started to avoid them all entirely. I stopped going to the lab. I stopped going to my training. I didn't want to see any of them. I didn't want to see their faces, so full of concern and compassion. I did not want their pity. I did not want their help.

In my head, Loki remained strangely quiet. He never said anything-not a damn word- and I returned the favor. Every so often, I'd get seized with the insane notion that I should apologize for what I had said to him. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. His pride would've made him take it the wrong way, would've made it seem as though I was the only one in the wrong. But even if that was not the case… I didn't think I could apologize, anyway. Not after what he had done.

It was unreasonable. I knew it was unreasonable. I should not have been so upset about this. Loki had done so many terrible things, after all. Horrific things, so much worse than this, so much worse than one childish prank. There were people out there who had lost family to him, who had lost their _lives _to him. And of course, he was going to kill me. That had been his plan from the beginning. Whether or not I knew the full truth, I was still going to die at his hands.

But somehow, I wondered if that would have been better.

If it would have been better, for me to die, than to learn this horrible truth.

These thoughts began to take a dark turn, and I found myself in an empty, abandoned place in my mind. Death lingered in the air about me, hovered over my shoulder, whispered terrible, shadowed thoughts. I longed for an alternative- _any _alternative- to this lie of a life…

It happened in one of my darker, less coherent moments. A moment so bleak and empty that I barely remember it. I saw the footage later, and Bruce… well, Bruce had been there. He told me everything. Everything that I forgot.

I'm so glad I forgot.

I'd been in my room when Bruce found me, the gun that Clint had given me for my birthday in my shaking hand, aimed at my own head. Its barrel trembled at my temple. I'd been laughing, tears streaking down my cheeks, utterly hysterical. Bruce's eyes had grown round with horror as, choking on my own crazed laughter, I said, "Maybe this will get him out! Do you think? Maybe… Maybe he'll let me go if I die! Maybe the lies will stop!"

Bruce had immediately gone into crisis mode; and his way of expressing that was to act calmer than ever. It took him a full twenty minutes to talk me down, his words gentle and soothing and kind… But, as I slowly, _slowly _lowered the gun, and slowly, _slowly _held it out to him, he had snatched it from my grasp, emptied it of all the bullets, and thrown it down the hallway. He then stormed inside, ripped the knife that Natasha had given me out of the drawer, and threw it after the gun. When he turned back to me, staring blankly at my now-empty hands, there were tears in his eyes.

"_Never. _Do that again." He said, his voice quivering. I remembered him saying that; I remembered him sitting down on the bed next to me, gripping my shoulders so tightly that they bruised. He was all but shaking me, all but shouting. "Do you hear me, Natalie? Don't you _ever _do that again, don't you _**dare!**_"

It was some of the most intense emotion I'd ever seen on his face. I'd looked him in the eye, feeling so… weak. Helpless. Raw.

And then I started bawling again.

Bruce had wrapped his arms around me and let me cry myself out on his shoulder. There had been worry in his eyes as I eventually passed out; and as soon as I was asleep, he had taken almost all of the weapons from Stark Tower and thrown them out. It was nigh impossible to thrown them _all _out, what with Tony being a weapons specialist and the spies being… spies, but Bruce made a damn good effort. And all weaponry that did _not _leave Stark Tower was locked away, kept where I couldn't reach it. And if the Avengers couldn't keep a close enough eye on me, then JARVIS was ordered to let them know the instant I went off of any of his cameras; so that if I covered one, they could be there in seconds before I did anything stupid. I never did, though. My brush with self-inflicted death had shaken me up almost as badly as it did them.

It was during these days that I think we all realized how much the Avengers had grown used to my presence, and how much they had started to care for me. I'd known for quite a long time now that I never wanted to leave the Avengers; that I cared about each and every one of them, even if I didn't exactly get along with a lot of them. Tony, Bruce and Steve especially, but Clint and Natasha had a little bit of a place in my heart. And Thor… well, our relationship was a bit more complicated, but I definitely held him in high regard.

But as these days passed, I started to realize that the feeling was actually mutual; that the Avengers cared for me as much as I did for them. They seemed as taken aback by this as I was; that old 'never-knowing-what-you've-got-until-it's-gone' mentality kicking in.

This care was made apparent by the subtle things; the way that Clint would retrieve some water or something for me without being asked, the way Natasha kept a close eye on me whenever I headed towards the gym, the way Steve would carry me up to my bedroom whenever I fell asleep on one of the couches. These things were noticed, were appreciated. And I don't think I could've survived those days without them; without the Avengers themselves.

Tony continued to give me easy shots; little quips that I could've easily countered. While I never replied, I did start to hear the words a bit more, a bit easier. I started to hear everyone speak more; started to understand every word, even if I wasn't quite… _listening. _It was a slow process, but it _did _happen.

Still. It was hard to see a way out. The others spoke in whispers about their concerns for Loki; wondering why he hadn't attacked yet, seeing as I was in a very vulnerable state. I tried to tune them out, but the worry lingered in my mind; and Loki's thoughts were completely blocked off from me.

This was partly because I was blocking him in turn. It felt… wrong, somehow. I had been so connected with him, our thoughts so intertwined and intermingled that we barely knew who was who, but now… now I was alone again. Alone in the dark and the cold.

At least I had the Avengers. I started to hang around them a bit more often, some instinctual need to be around people who cared about me driving me into the rooms where they sat. They never protested. In fact, when we watched TV, it became common practice for Banner to throw his arm over the back of the chair, so that when I sat next to him it could slide down over my shoulders. Or, if Steve was listening to the radio, I would sometimes sit by him, and he'd do the same; or let me hold onto his arm like a lifeline, an anchor that held me to the world. It was always platonic; like my family had swelled to include the biggest group of super-powered misfits since… ever. Tony was my obnoxious little brother, Steve my protective older brother, and Clint… who knew what the hell Clint was. He and Natasha probably regarded me as their crazy niece or something.

But the point was… even though I didn't have my real family; my mother or my… _father…_ I had them.

Weirdest. Family. _**Ever.**_

But they were all I had. And, strangely… it was more than enough.

* * *

Around two and half weeks had passed since Loki told the truth, and I was starting to feel better. Not much, mind, but I was beginning to talk a little more; to ask for water, or to tell them that I was going to change the channel, so long as no one had any problems with it. Everyone still tiptoed around me, babying around my emotions, and I found myself forced to do the same. I never spoke above a whisper. I never got involved in any arguments, or said anything more than simple, mumbled suggestions. As far as the Avengers could see… I might have seemed a _little_ better, but I probably still looked like crap.

But I noticed. The world started to fade back into its normal clarity. Things weren't so fuzzy around the edges anymore, the Avengers' words not quiet so echo-y and hollow. Basically… life went on. I had more to be worried about than just something that had happened in my past; no matter how horrible and vile that 'something' was. Now that there was a little more room in my head for separate concerns, I began to grow anxious about the other worries in my life; specifically, Loki's big doomsday plan.

He still had not said a word to me since the incident. That was unusual, even for him. We hadn't gone this long without speaking since the first time I found out about him; since the Avengers first gathered together.

I worried about what he wanted from me now; if he was just letting me go through my little breakdown, only to strike once I partially healed. We'd discussed that once before, after all; when I'd been trying to convince him to let me see my mother. Ugh, it felt like an eternity ago…

But he was, for the most part, leaving me alone. Any nightmares I had were not directly linked to him; they were my own. Any dreams were just my own random thoughts and imaginings. He did not whisper taunts into my mind, or appear suddenly in a room, even to smile arrogantly at me. It worried me a little; it was the calm before the storm. But I already felt like I was running in a hurricane; how could things _get _any stormier?

But it was something that Clint said that _really_ got me thinking.

It is notable that this was, quite possibly, the first full conversation I understood since I was told the truth about my father, the first one I listened to and dissected in my head, just as I had in the old days. There was no where near the intensity that I used to have; I was still half-numb, thinking about things as a reflex, not really caring about anything.

I'd been watching some spy show with Clint- he sent a meaning half grin in my direction when the spy contemplated killing a civilian 'security risk'- and I had fallen asleep on his arm. I tended to fall asleep a lot, and in weird places, so this wasn't questioned. Though I have to say, if you ever get the chance, sleeping on a spy's arm is totally recommended, if you trust him enough not to kill you for it. His muscles made for an awesome-if hard- pillow, and the dude totally didn't move. Like, _at all. _Most people will take their arms away from under your head after their hand falls asleep, but not him. I must've been out for a good three hours, and he hadn't moved an inch.

But, at the time, I barely noticed this; just filed it away in the back of my mind for later thought. I could barely comprehend anything, really. But I still listened. Still paid attention. Even if none of the others were aware I was doing so. Even if _I _was barely aware I was doing so.

"Is she sleeping?" I had been partially awake before, but Natasha's voice sealed the deal. I kept my eyes closed, still making an attempt to plunge back into unconsciousness.

"Yeah," Hawkeye answered. "Been out cold for the past few hours."

I felt the couch shifting just the slightest touch at my feet as Natasha sat down. The two were quiet for a while, listening to the mindless drone of the big-screen TV, obviously not really paying attention to it.

"Do you think Loki's said anything to her?" Romanov finally asked, breaking the silence. "Since the last time?"

"Doubtful," Barton's arm still hadn't moved. "By this point… I think anything he said would just push her over the edge completely. But she seems to be getting better; not worse."

I thought that over. I hadn't really told anyone about the silence in my head; the stony, black walls that separated me and Loki in a way that seemed intensely permanent. They'd been playing an eternal guessing game- and a dangerous one at that- by not asking me directly. They had to trust me, at least a bit, to leave something that important in my hands.

There was another long silence. The spies were not ones to waste words. They liked to cut to the heart of the matter quickly; everything they said was simple and to the point.

"Do you think she's going to die?"

Like that, for example.

Natasha's words startled me a little; I hadn't thought that my death was much of a concern for these two. But I still didn't open my eyes, didn't move at all, didn't change my slow breathing pattern; not because I _wanted _to eavesdrop (though, given the situation, I'm sure they would've congratulated me for this as opposed to being angry about it) but simply because I did not want to go through the process that being 'awake' entailed. Questions about how I was feeling, insistences that I should probably go up to bed instead of sleeping on the couch, etc. etc. Clint would probably moan about his arm, too, and I did _not _want to let _that _go. I was too comfortable where I was, and still hoping for sleep.

Clint's answer was just as simple. "She thinks she is."

Well. That was interesting. Out of habit, I listened for Natasha's answer.

"And what do _you_ think?"

Clint hesitated. "I think that Loki will eventually want her dead. With their connection…" He paused. "If he does not change his mind, then yes. I think she will die."

"And what makes you think he'll change his mind?"

He chuckled, very softly. "Call it instinct," he answered wryly. Now what the hell was _that _supposed to mean? For the first time in a very long time, my curiosity was sparked.

"You don't think…?" Natasha seemed just as confused as I was.

"No," Clint didn't need her to finish her question; he knew what she was asking. But _I _needed her to. He didn't think _what? _

But I didn't care enough to ask. To sit up. To do anything.

The two fell silent for a long moment, and then Clint elaborated. "It's not a… romantic connection." Ah. My mouth went dry. So that's what they were worried about. Stockholm Syndrome. Well, they had nothing to worry about, believe me. I'd disliked Loki _before _all of this had happened. Now I _hated _him.

After a moment, Clint went on, "When Loki feels pain, Natalie flinches. If Loki is angry, Natalie hits things. She feels what he feels."

"So what if the reverse is also true?" Natasha added, catching on.

"Exactly." He paused, considering his words. "I talked to Thor about it; from what I understand of this connection that Loki has made with her… and knowing what Natalie has _done _to that connection, by breaking through to his head and invading _his_ thoughts and memories… then Loki can not afford to keep Natalie alive.

"These connections become very personal, very quickly. Loki took an extreme risk, doing what he did, making this link with Natalie. Because there comes a time where it will be… irreversible. While the link physically _could _be removed, it would be impossible for the two to live without each other; their thoughts would be so intertwined that having one without the other would almost be… cruel. The very thought of them separating would be torturous. The idea that one would hurt the other would become unthinkable.

"Eventually… if this link runs unchecked, if Natalie keeps pushing it in the way she does… they will almost become one person, one mind. Two halves of one whole. And Loki knows it; so he can't afford to keep her alive long enough for that to happen. If he did, then she would become a weakness; something he'd have to protect, to keep safe. Any pain of hers-emotional or physical- would devastate him as well. He has to kill her before that happens. He no longer has a choice."

Silence followed Clint's explanation. I considered what he'd said, completely shocked, though I still displayed no outward signs of it.

Could Loki and I ever be that close? There had been days when I felt that close to him already; particularly when I'd visited him in his prison. Days where it felt as though the two of us knew _everything _about each other, knew all about how the other thought, knew every memory… but that had been before this. Before I found out his final secret, his final lie.

If it _was _the final lie.

If I was even me.

How could Loki know so much about me, know so much about the way I thought… if _I _didn't even know that much about myself?

My head pounded, and I tried to retreat into sleep once more, not caring about the rest of the conversation, not _wanting _to care about the rest. But I heard it anyway.

"In fact," Clint added after a very long time, now a little quieter, "I wouldn't be surprised if that's the reason that we haven't heard from him since he told her about her father." His hand gently brushed a strand of hair from where it was tickling my nose, his other arm remaining unmoving beneath my head. "Because if Natalie is in this much pain… then what's to stop him from feeling that same pain?"

I almost opened my eyes in my shock; I hadn't even considered that. It seemed so unlikely, so impossible, that Loki could feel _anything _for what he did to me. After all, he'd been smiling when he said it, hadn't he? He'd been _laughing_ at me. Looking down at me, the pathetic, puny little mortal, the great joke that he had played…

But what if… _what if… _he actually _did _feel my pain? And worse, if he knew that _he _was the one causing it… what must that do to him?

Still… if that was the case, then why hadn't he _talked _to me about it? Why hadn't he _said _anything?

Why hadn't he _apologized?_

Maybe, _maybe,_ I could've understood. It was something he did a long time ago, something stupid he'd done when he was younger; we all had stories like that. We all had embarrassing moments in our past. If my pain hurt him, then why hadn't he tried to fix it? Why hadn't he said sorry, or… or even if he _wasn't _sorry, why hadn't he _told _me that it was hurting him? Why wasn't he trying to resolve this, to work it out? Why was he just _ignoring _me?

And then I remembered. This was _Loki. _The little snot was too _arrogant _to apologize, too proud to admit that he had _ever _been wrong. And he was certainly too bigheaded to even _consider _'talking it out' with a mortal.

Even if that mortal had a connection with him that, perhaps, ran deeper than blood.

My heart skipped a beat, and my head hurt a lot worse. I pushed the thoughts away and surrendered totally to sleep, clinging just slightly tighter to Clint's arm, certain that I would fall away into the void if I ever let go.

* * *

Though I was getting better slowly, day by day, though I was now able to speak a little more, though I could get through almost a whole day without crying at least once… I have to attribute my recovery to one person and one conversation. This person and conversation did not make me instantly better, as nothing could do that, but it definitely helped things along the way.

It happened probably a month after I'd gotten the news that my life was a lie. I have long debated with myself about who handled this news better; Loki or I. He, at least, managed to make himself relatively presentable to the rest of the world within seconds, without holing himself up in his room and going crazy for a whole four weeks. On the other hand, _I _did not go on a murderous rampage that threatened three separate worlds. I'd say we came in at a tie.

But the person who shook me out of my pity-party was the one person who had always shaken me out of these things before; my best friend, April Blackthorn.

I'd been calling her and my mom ever since I started speaking again; I would never talk for long, and would always hang up after a few minutes and some half-hearted responses. I kept my tone light enough to partly fool my mother, but I could never, _ever _fool April.

Naturally, she never talked about it. She asked me what was wrong, and if I didn't want to tell her about it, she would step back and allow me that privacy. She'd then babble in my ear about the latest things in her life, which sometimes included conversations she'd had with Tony; who, true to his word, was keeping in contact with her. I would listen without speaking, and April would talk on and on about whatever nonsense life was putting her through. I was never really coherent enough to help her with these problems, but she didn't expect me to be.

Her constant chatter eventually became almost relaxing; a reassurance there was something normal out there in the real world. But, after a few weeks of this, she finally asked me, "So, seriously. What is _wrong _with you?"

It had been one of my better days, (I hadn't cried once, I hadn't screamed, and I'd even said an entire sentence earlier without mumbling) but the instant April asked me that, it all came out in a torrent. I told her everything; everything that I could. Tears were pouring down my cheeks by the time that I finished the story of how I'd 'found something out' that made me realize that 'my father might not have been a bad guy after all'. She didn't ask _what _I'd found; not dogging me, just letting me tell her the details that I felt were important. I told her that my father might've been lied to, that it might not have been his fault he thought of me that way.

She remained entirely silent as, sobbing, I told her my story. But then I said it. The words that changed everything.

"It's just…" I sniffed, trying to wipe my eyes, but more tears were pouring down. My sentences were broken by sobs and painful breaths. "Everything I've ever done… all the good I've ever done in my life… it doesn't mean _anything_ anymore. Everything I've ever done in life has been to prove him wrong about me, to prove to him that I'm not a monster… Everything I am… it's because of _him. _And I-"

"No." She cut me off abruptly; speaking for the first time in a while. I stopped.

"What?" I asked, knuckling tears out of my right eye.

"No. That's bullshit, Natalie. That's _serious _bullshit."

"But-"

"_Buulllssshhhhiiiiiitttt." _

"April!" I whined.

"What?" She demanded. I could imagine her arms crossing. "I'm serious, Natalie. That is the single _stupidest_ thing I've ever heard in my life. You need to _get a grip. _Do you _really_ think that you're who you are because of your _father_? I mean, are you _serious _with this crap? Nuh-uh. No way. Come on, your father wasn't even _there."_

I swallowed, my throat feeling thick and gunky, my eyes raw and sore. "But… I became a psych student because…"

"You became a psych student because you were born to be a psychiatrist. Your first words in life were 'and how do you feel about that?' It had absolutely _nothing _to do with your father."

My resolve was wavering. My sobs were spent, choked off by her blunt words. I bit my lip. "Maybe," I admitted in a soft, weary voice.

"There's no 'maybe' about it. You're who you are because that's who you were _always_ meant to be. And _no_ other reason. You don't want to be a shrink to prove your father wrong; you want to do it to help people. Because that's who you are. That's who you always were."

I couldn't help but smile a little. See, that's the thing about friends. It always harder to look at things that objectively when _you're _the one going through the problems. That's why I needed April; to back me up when the shrink doth think too much.

Her tone softened a little as she added, "You're going to make a damn good psychiatrist one day, Natalie. And your father's not going to have anything to do with it."

My smile grew a bit. Despite the fact that my heart still felt torn and broken, despite how my life still wasn't that great, despite how I still had problems… I felt oddly better. "Thanks, April."

"Don't mention it. Just do me a favor and don't beat Tony up too badly for keeping you locked away in that Tower; I still want my man to have his looks when I finally convince him to go out with me."

For the first time in a month, I smiled. "You'd better watch what you say; these phones are bugged. Tony likes to invade my privacy as a hobby."

"Oh, good," She cleared her throat and announced, very clearly, "Tony Stark. This is April Blackthorn. If you are listening to this, please marry me. The end."

I laughed. Oh, it felt so _good _to laugh again. The darkness still pressed in on all sides, but… I could finally see the light.

"You're the best, April," I told her.

"You'd better believe it."

"I'll talk to you later."

"See you soon."

She hung up.

* * *

It was the day after my conversation with April, and the Avengers were training.

It wasn't such an uncommon thing these days; with Loki's strange, unfathomable silence, they were all getting nervous. Tense. Even Tony was actually attending his regular training schedules, as set up by Clint and Steve. They had all stepped it up, working together as a team. Despite their rivalries, when it came to the battlefield, they were a well-oiled machine; playing on strengths and weaknesses, covering each other's backs. It was impressive, actually.

Today, it was a sparring match; Thor vs. everyone else. Well… everyone but Banner. He just watched. But I was fairly certain that the Hulk didn't exactly _need _to train; and it was too risky to have him do so, anyway.

Not only did this help them fight another Asgardian, it also sharpened Thor's moves. I watched carefully from the doorway; the training room was massive, and pretty durable (it had to be), with a few objects scattered here and there to make the terrain a bit harder to navigate; a rise in the ground, or a platform high above everyone else, etc.

They were really going at it; Thor was refraining from using lightning, since that was obviously not Loki's style, but otherwise, he didn't hold back. Tony went flying, the Cap was sent to the side, and who knew what the hell had happened to Natasha. I studied the moves carefully, missing a great deal, as everything was moving too quickly for my eyes to keep up.

Iron Man burst back onto the scene, flying towards Thor at break-neck speed; Steve and Clint were regrouping towards another end of the room, and Natasha materialized from behind one of the platforms, standing at the ready. As Tony flew into Thor, the Asgardian was sent backwards, straight towards Natasha; she slammed her palm into his throat. Or, rather, she aimed at it and acted as though she was doing so, pulling back before her hand actually struck. Banner slid next to me, silent as a wraith, and the two of us watched together.

As Thor caught Natasha's arm and flipped her over, standing abruptly, the Captain circled around him. I'd lost sight of Hawkeye, and I was sure the Bird Brain was up to no good, but Thor did not seem to notice. He was busy with Steve and Tony, who had grouped together and were now advancing on him.

No… more than that…

They were _corralling _him.

I looked to where they were leading him and smiled a little. Clint stood atop one of the taller 'buildings'; he slung his bow over his shoulder and watched carefully until Thor was backed up against it. The Asgardian raised his hammer to take out Tony and/or Steve…

And Clint somersaulted down on top of him, flipping off the building and landing behind Thor in a move so quick it was unbelievable. Definitely a blink-and-you'll-miss-it kind of moment. Thor was surrounded; and Clint got a blade to his throat. It was over.

I clapped a little, quietly. Everyone stiffened, froze, then turned to me, eyes round. The second they caught sight of me, they relaxed; Tony's face plate rose up to reveal his oh-so-famous features, and he grinned cockily at me.

"Ah. Godzilla awakes," he shot at me. He gestured around. "What do you think of the new moves?"

I nodded slowly, though the fact that I was impressed might've been lost in the vagueness of my gestures. "Nicely done," I complimented in a soft voice. I still couldn't make myself speak too loudly.

Tony nodded, clearly proud of his work. "Certainly sends a message," he noted.

I lifted an eyebrow. Saw a shot. Took it. "What message?" I asked, sarcasm not quite dripping, but definitely there. I gestured to the Hawk, whose amazing little summersault had ended the fight for good. "'Be nice to us or we'll flip you the Bird'?"

Everyone froze again. Eyes grew wider. A _lot _wider. And then smiles began to cross faces, to spread like wildfire. Tony laughed aloud, clapping me on the back with a painfully metal hand.

"Oh, yeah," He said, grinning. "She's back."

I smiled at him, a tiny gesture; I couldn't force my lips to curl into a proper grin. But it was enough. Enough to fool them. Enough to fool myself. "That's right, bitches." I said, stepping into the training center. "And I'm gonna kick all yo' butts." I smacked my fist into my palm.

Everyone laughed; even Steve. "A challenge!" Cried Thor boisterously, as the others joined in.

"This oughta be good," Clint knocked an arrow.

"Time to show you what a real superhero is," Tony said, the face plate of his armor snapping back into place, the eyes glowing.

"Someone with actual powers?" I shot at him. More laughter. They were laughing a little _too _loud and _too _often; but I knew why. We were all relieved to have me 'back'. And even though I still felt like crap, I could finally push it aside long enough that I didn't have to _look _like it.

Still… Natasha was watching me carefully. She slid next to my side, standing in a loosely defensive stance.

"Girls vs. Guys?" I suggested to her innocently. She gave them a little smirk, joining in on the game, but I could see a coldness in her eyes.

"Only if the boys promise not to be too upset when we humiliate them," she answered, mock-slyly.

Steve raised his hands slightly. "I have a problem with hitting a lady. I'm out."

I snickered; though I'd seen him have no problem sparring with Natasha before. "S'matter, Cap? Afraid you'll lose?"

"Yes." He answered easily. I laughed. I convinced myself it was funny.

Once the 'fighting' began, I landed on my butt after about the first half minute; in fact, I only survived that long because of Natasha. But I kept coming, kept on swinging… I was only human, and I couldn't fight with the bubble, but I stood my ground anyway. Natasha was pretty impressive against the others; a lot better than me, but in the end we lost pretty badly. Of course, everyone took it easy on us; no real extreme use of powers, no tank missiles from Tony, etc. etc. And we were all laughing as we left the center, with Tony and I still firing trash talk at each other. We planned to 'solve this with video games'; and promised that we would destroy each other in the world of computer simulations. I felt a little exhausted, but I headed up to one of the kitchens to get water bottles for everyone. The training center was down near the basement, and the closest kitchen on the first floor, so I headed there by myself. I let my face relax a little bit, allowed the smile to drop when I got away from them. I wasn't out of the woods yet. The knowledge of what Loki had done, of everything that had happened to my father… it still weighed heavy on my heart, still pressed in at the back of my eyes.

I hadn't bothered to look my father up, to see if I could visit him. After all, just because_ I _knew that his thoughts had been twisted by Loki didn't mean that _he _knew it. In the eyes of Cameron Frost, his daughter was still very much a monster.

I shuddered and pulled a few water bottles from the fridge; just then, the doorbell rang. I looked up instinctively, searching for the door. I went to the intercom, knowing that the ringing bell had been displayed throughout the entire tower, and pressed the button.

"I'll get it, guys," I told the Avengers; wherever they were in the Tower, they'd hear me. "I'm closest."

In the old days, no one would've allowed me to do this; the risk of it being a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent was too great. But we figured that the Tower had dropped off of their radar by now. These days it was usually a package delivery, or, when Tony was feeling clever, a pizza delivery. The latter was always brought, I noticed, by the newest rookie; I'd give them a little smile and a big tip, remembering the days when I would've given almost anything to get off of the Tower's route…

I headed towards the door. Tony had a monitoring system that could show me who was outside, but I had long ago stopped bothering to check. By the time I could figure the thing out, the people would usually get bored and leave; so why bother?

I should've looked. I should've checked. Maybe then none of this would have ever happened.

Maybe then no one would have died…

I pulled open the door, plastering the smile back on my face. I had to be normal. I had to be better.

But the fake smile was wiped off in seconds as I found myself staring directly into the barrel of a gun.

My heart stopped. The safety clicked off, a pale finger tightening around the trigger. My eyes went huge and round, my breathing… nonexistent. Time stood perfectly still. I caught sight of two silver-blue eyes staring at me; there was bloodlust in those eyes, and absolutely, entirely, and utterly no mercy. Cold and compassionless, dead and hollow.

A thousand different feelings exploded in me as I heard Tony coming down the hallway behind me.

"Who is it, Nat?"

I didn't answer. My heart was lodged somewhere in my throat, and the tears were threatening to spill again.

_No, _I pleaded-_begged-_ sending my thoughts to the one who I knew was responsible; Loki. _No, please, don't do this. You can't do this to him, you can't do this to me_,_ please, __**please…**_

But, of course, he didn't reply.

Cameron Frost took a single step towards me; it brought the gun in his hand directly to my head, pressed against the skin of my forehead. Rage filled his eyes as pain drowned mine, swallowing me whole. Tony caught sight of my father and stiffened; I heard the suit's repulsors power up, but I knew there was nothing he could do. Nothing he could do before my father pulled the trigger and ended this thing once and for all.

"On your knees, Nat," Cameron said; the first words he'd spoken aloud to me in thirteen years. They were dark, deadly, but his tone was hollow. Empty. Emotionless.

This wasn't retribution, this wasn't anger…

This was an execution.

Slowly, I obeyed, raising my hands behind my head as I did so. Cameron's gun left my forehead but still remained trained on me. The action gave Tony a clearer shot, but he still wasn't taking it. Still not risking it. The repulsors were heavy weapons; fine-tuning them must take some time. I wondered if Hawkeye would get here in time to save me. But at the moment, it really wasn't _me _that I was worried about.

Because now my heart was pounding. My breath coming in gasps. Adrenaline surged through me at an unbelievable rate, as hot as fire in my veins, molten lava coursing through me. This was worse than before, worse than it had _ever _been before… this wasn't just fury, it was terror, pure terror, fear that I'd never known mixed with a horrible vengeance that I'd experienced only once before. The world was getting sharper, the room brighter… as fury and dread all tumbled about inside me, I knew what was coming. I knew what was going to happen. Even if no one else saw it yet.

I saw him then. Standing at my father's shoulder, just behind him. Just ready to whisper silver lies into his ear. Tears were streaking down my cheeks as Loki stepped around my father and walked towards me, a triumphant smile on his face.

"Do you see now, Natalie Frost?" He asked, his voice very soft. Almost kind. Almost gentle. Rage boiled my blood, my heart racing faster than ever, slamming against my ribs as he smiled down at me. "One way or another…" he said slowly, benevolently, bending over to my eye level for just a moment.

"In the end…You will always kneel."

My eyes narrowed on him. Everything in me was screaming, cussing him out in my head, thoughts of blood and death roiling about, causing my very bones to shake, my fingers to tremble violently. I wanted to scream my hatred at him, I wanted to shout death threats and swear that he would pay for what he'd done, for what he was doing… To promise that the rest of the Avengers were on their way, that Loki wouldn't get away with this, that he was going to die screaming and I was going to watch and laugh…

But what I said was far crueler.

I looked directly into Loki's pale, Tesseract-blue eyes as I spoke; but the words, we both knew, were not meant only for him. They were meant for my father, the man who even now was giving me the deadest of looks; as though my death really _was _simply… necessary. Something to be done for the good of all mankind.

And, speaking to both of them, I told the biggest lie of my life; a lie that, once upon a time, I might have wished was true.

"I forgive you."

Loki's smile faltered for just a second. But then it was back, stronger than ever. He chuckled and stood, then gestured to my father. "Finish this," ordered, then vanished.

Cameron's finger tightened on the trigger. "I won't let you kill again, Nat. I _won't._"

I didn't say anything. I knew what was coming. My heart sped even faster. I looked him in the eye.

The sound of gunfire cracked throughout the entire tower, shattering the still air and sending the golden bullet speeding towards me.

But it was too late for that. It was too late for me to die.

Fire exploded behind my eyes, flaring out over my entire figure, an indestructible shield forming around my body.

And just like that, we lost.

**A/N: Hmm… A slightly shorter chapter, I know. But the next one will be **_**incredibly **_**long, so it might be a little late. :/ Sorry about that. Leaving you on a cliffie and all… I'm kinda evil, aren't I? :P **


	16. Adieu

**A/N: Told you this would be late. :/ Sorry. Hope it was worth the wait. **

**O_o AND OHMYPANCAKES THIS HAS MORE THAN FIFTY REVIEWS ALREADY, YOU GUYS! :D You are all amazing! Thank you so much! **

** I could lie to you and say that this is an extra-long chapter in celebration of one of my stories finally hitting the Fifty-Review Mark… but really, there is just no excuse for how absurdly long this thing is. Seriously. It's pathetic. **

** Better get the popcorn… Like watching me try to change a light bulb, this might take a while, and has the possibility to be entertaining. :P**

* * *

Loki had always been able to escape.

He had always been able to leave his cell.

From the very beginning.

He had the energy, and the ability, to transport himself out of his prison. The Tesseract's energy more than just lingered in his veins; his magic had _adapted_ to it. In all that time he was in contact with it, using its energy… he learned to use it for himself, even without having the Tesseract. His abilities were much more limited without it, but it was enough for the things he had done; enough for the mind link, enough for the changes he'd made to the nanos, enough to call out to my father and tell him that I needed to be destroyed.

He would take this energy from Asgard itself; the air tainted by the Tesseract's presence. He would also take it from me; it was the reason that I always became so sick whenever I traveled via the Tesseract and no one else did; usually, the Tesseract protected the travelers with a field of energy. In my case, however, Loki had drained that field, taking it for his own use later on. It was amazing I survived the trip at all.

But he had always had the _ability_ to escape. Ability wasn't the problem. What he needed was something for his magic to hold onto, something to anchor him to his destination, something to guide him towards this planet; something else created by magic, something that bled power, so that it shone out like a beacon.

In essence, me. Me and my little indestructible bubble.

The process would've killed anyone else. Anyone without the nanos. Loki latched onto me and the bubble through the mental link, through the magic that flowed in those machines, and in seconds he appeared in front of us.

But those seconds might as well have been an eternity.

It was as though Loki was clinging onto the nanos from across an entire dimension; in turn, the nanos clung to me, and I clung to the Earth that I stood on. Trapped in this chain, no way out, just holding on for dear life while I felt myself being ripped apart. I couldn't scream; I didn't have the energy to scream. I just stood there, helpless, unable to move or think or breathe… immobile and so, so terrified…

The world exploded in a flash of ethereal blue light, matching the Tesseract, matching Loki's eyes whenever he projected in my head… I crumpled to the ground, on my hands and knees, gasping and retching. The backlash of power that flared away from me washed throughout the entire floor of the Tower; I could _feel _it, a wall of ice-blue flame that enveloped all in its path, knocking Tony and any arriving Avengers aside. My father, too, was thrown backwards, slamming into the concrete outside of the Tower. In seconds, all hope of the Avengers coming in time to save me vanished.

My stomach was churning, my skin slicked with cold sweat as I curled in on myself, still on all fours. As I tried not to vomit, I caught sight of the bullet on the floor beside me, completely flattened. I could see my force field, the bubble, as it flickered in and out of my vision. It was light, Tesseract-blue, and after a moment it disappeared from sight. I stayed where I was, unable to move, my every molecule screaming in agony as my body tried to pull itself back together, as the nanobots shifted back into place. I heard Tony groaning as he struggled to right himself behind me, having falling onto his back after the wave of Tesseract energy hit. But I was shaking too badly to stand and help him. Trembling, I noticed something moving in the corner of my eye.

The tip of a shoe.

Loki's shoes.

They tapped out a quiet but echoing staccato on the floor as he came up next to me. I wanted to stand, to get to my feet and face him, but, weakened though I was, the task seemed impossible. All I could do was tilt my face up to look at him as he stopped, just a foot or so away from me, directly outside of my bubble. My eyes locked dead on his -green now, as he was actually _here _and no longer an illusion- and my mouth went dry.

After all this time… after everything we'd been through… after everything he'd done…

I had to know.

My voice shaking, surprisingly tiny and childlike, I asked, "Why?"

The question splintered off into a thousand others in my head, but they always came back to that base root. Why? Why had he done this? Why were we forced to be enemies? Why did he hate me for no reason? Why had he done all of those terrible things? Why was he here? Why was he still so desperate for blood?

Why, after everything, was he still smiling?

His smile was so cold. So unlike that genuine grin he'd once given me, so unlike what I wished he could be, so unlike what he _should_ be. He considered my question for half a moment, still smirking, still acting as though this was all a game, and he was the victor; even if we didn't know it yet.

And then, in a soft whisper, he spoke. "_The voice in your head/whose spirit you stole/ left you for dead/ but you dug the hole."_

For a brief second, the words made no sense. They were twisted, convoluted; and they _rhymed, _for Pete's sake. But then they clicked into place in my head. As the smile widened, my heart sank and twisted, tying itself into painful knots. Internal Dialogue. Maria Mena. The same song that had been playing over and over in my head, again and again, every time I saw Loki… he must have heard it from me so many times and now he was using it against me…

The quote tore into me like a dagger, but Loki didn't seem to care. If Clint was right in any way about Loki feeling my pain, then he was hiding it well. The Norse god of Mischief took a final step towards me, his hand outstretched. His fingertips brushed against the shield, sending it flaring into rippled visibility for just the briefest of seconds; then his hand seemed to be dancing on the air. He chuckled once, quietly.

"Any last words, Natalie Frost?" He asked, almost kindly. I shuddered. There was definitely murder in those green eyes; murder which marred the beauty, which twisted him into something dark and dangerous. But I didn't believe it was going to be _my _murder; not yet. I was still necessary. He still needed me for his plans.

But I turned my gaze up to where I knew a camera watched us. My gaze zeroing in on it, I spoke in a cold, dangerous tone. Addressing the Avengers. Speaking to them all, one last time. My voice dropped an octave.

"Avenge me."

Loki grinned. He actually _grinned. _Magic flared at his fingertips; the two of us vanished into darkness, and, the stress finally taking its toll on my system, I passed out.

* * *

When I woke up, I wasn't bound or gagged. There were no ropes or chains on my arms; nothing to suggest that I was a prisoner. But the oppressive feeling in the air was enough to tell me that I was; completely and undoubtedly.

I sat up, shaking my head out quickly in an attempt to clear up my fuzzy thoughts. My fingers were tingling, buzzing with nervous energy, and despite how I only just woke up, I felt like I'd drunk about a gallon of coffee. I pushed my hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ears.

That was when my finger brushed against something plastic, rattling it against my ear. I frowned; it was a small headset, like a Bluetooth. I pulled it out and looked it over, curious. It was currently off, dead in my hand, and I wondered how it had even gotten into the bubble in the first place. Then I remembered; there was a small gap, a hole in my shielding. Meant to allow air, it was my one weakness.

The only problem? The damn thing _moved. _I had no idea where it was, couldn't keep it in one place. So how had Loki found it long enough to put this thing on me?

Well, whatever, he found a way. I put the headset back in, knowing that this was what Loki wanted but also knowing that it was probably my best source of information on what was happening next. I stood, scanning the room, assessing the situation. In front of me, there was only darkness; but behind me, there was a wall. I smiled a little. Well, if it was a prison, it was a stupid one. I got ready to run through it; score one for the indestructible bubble. If I got enough of a head of steam, then this poor wall didn't stand a chance.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The darkness was banished as the light above me switched on; it send brightness cascading throughout the entire room, illuminating every corner, every dark secret the place held. I whirled around and froze. It was Loki, of course. He was smiling at me again, his usual golden spear in his hand, alight with a single drop of the Tesseract's blue energy. I didn't know how the hell he'd gotten his hands on the thing, but given where it was currently aimed, I didn't particularly _care, _either.

A casual observer to this scene might not have guessed that I was a prisoner; but it would have been only too obvious to them that April _was_. Ropes bound her to a wooden chair, her hands tied behind her back, her legs fastened to the wood, a gag in her mouth. The tip of Loki's spear rested against the back of her head, hidden beneath her black hair, and her eyes burned, flashing dangerously. Her muscles strained against the ropes, and I was sure that, however Loki had beaten her, she was just _dying _for a rematch.

I, on the other hand, was absolutely horrified. April. The very symbol of my normal life. Completely removed from all of this craziness, involved just enough to help, willing to keep quiet about any secret… and here she was, in Loki's hands. Another piece in his game. It was my worst nightmare; as Loki had proved time and time again, showing me this exact scenario in my dreams…

Only this time it was worse.

This time, I couldn't wake up.

Hatred rocked through me, sending my heart pounding. No. I wasn't going to let this happen. Loki wasn't allowed to have her, he wasn't allowed to _touch _her.

But, even knowing these thoughts, the Asgardian's smile only widened. "Do you honestly think that you can lay a finger on me before I destroy her?" He asked, head tilting to the side. "Do you truly wish to _test _me, mortal?"

"Call me mortal one more time," I said in a deadly tone, "And we'll find out."

My hands clenched into tight fists. For the first time, I could actually hurt him. If I attacked him right here and right now, I could actually do some damage. I had my force field, after all, I was indestructible. And I was totally ready to do it. I didn't give a damn about our past, about the things he had done, the things we had said to each other. I didn't _care _that I'd once thought him redeemable. I'd warned him before. He touches my friends, and he's a dead man.

Immortal or no.

Immediately, my mind shifted into battle mode. I scanned the room, looking for a vantage point; _any _vantage point. Finding none, my gaze clicked over to him. I looked him up and down, scanning him for weaknesses, gathering information. It was only then that I realized that he was wearing his battle armor;

And that his twisted golden helmet rested atop his head, framing his face.

He was ready for war. He was standing like the king he thought he was meant to be, ready to rule. I dropped into a defensive stance, ready to _attack_. But he kept smiling, pressing the spear a little closer to April's head. I saw blood trickle down the back of her neck, dampening her hair. She flinched away from the blade, but otherwise did not react to the injury. Her eyes remained alight with dark vengeance.

His smirk grew. The bruises on his face were long ago healed. There was no damage on his face, no outward signs of injury. He stood with all the flawless perfection and graceful regality that a royal should have; but those eyes… dammit, those eyes were so… so…

So _dead._

I shoved aside the pity that tried to overwhelm my anger. Shoved aside my empathy. But the problem was, I _knew_ that look. I'd worn it so many times. It was the look I had whenever I explained my father's story. Whenever I saw a picture of him, but my mother was in the room and I couldn't cry. It was the face I was wearing the day I took every thing I owned that reminded me of him and burned it in my backyard.

Throwing a switch. Turning off my emotions. Doing everything I could do to keep myself from feeling anything. Listing facts and figures, shoving aside all of the pain and hate…

And he was doing the same thing right now…

This was hurting him. Hawkeye was right; my pain _did _hurt Loki. If he wanted to remain the cold, arrogant, selfish son of a bitch that he was, he was going to have to remove the link; remove _me._ I was a threat to his rule. I would be eliminated.

But first… he needed something from me. Otherwise he wouldn't have April, otherwise I wouldn't still be alive…

His dead eyes glinted just briefly, following along with my thoughts, waiting for me to draw my own conclusions, saying nothing. But the fire that lurked in those eyes was still so muted, for him. The ambition in his smile, though still very much there, was faded and false. He wasn't doing this because he wanted to; not anymore. He was doing this because he _had _to.

Because who would he be, if he was not a monster?

My blood still heated, I slowly allowed myself to shift out of my defensive stance. I was not going to get out of this by fighting him; any attempt and April would be dead on the ground. But if he wanted something from me, then that meant that diplomacy still had a chance. Not a good chance, mind, but better than brute force. As much as I would've _loved _to just go at him with the full strength of the mighty bubble, it would get me no where and we both knew it. I glared at the ground.

Loki didn't lower the spear, but it did move away from April's head, so that it was no longer digging into her scalp. She looked at me, indignant, as though demanding to know why I wasn't cleaning this guy's clock right then and there. I didn't look at her; I couldn't bear to. I couldn't see her next to him, couldn't stand to think that the two were in such close proximity to each other.

"That's better," Loki said, his serpentine voice creeping across the room, winding its way into my thoughts. "Fighting is so barbaric, after all. Better to talk things out, like civilized men."

My eyes narrowed. "What do you want, Loki?" I demanded, not mincing words. He wanted to play games. I wanted to plant my foot where the sun didn't shine. It seemed we were both going to be disappointed.

He chuckled very softly; both at my question, and at the hostility in my thoughts. My fury _amused _him. "What I have always wanted."

My heart sank, but I crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm listening," I said, a sour taste in the back of my throat.

"Oh, must it be spelled out for you?" The conceited little troll asked. Picking up a bit of mortal speaking patterns, I noticed. Probably my influence; but who knew, really?

Keeping the spear tip pressed at the back of April's neck, Loki crouched down beside her, gently stroking her cheek. A metal tang filled my mouth, crimson staining my vision. The world suddenly became a thousand times brighter, and April's eyes widened on me as a glow spread across my entire body. I hadn't thought that I _could _glow while the bubble was activated; had thought that it was just a precursor to something more dangerous. Apparently, I had been wrong. But I didn't care; I didn't care that April was seeing me as the freak I really was, I didn't care that this shouldn't be possible, I didn't _care _that Loki was causing himself pain by causing me pain. I just wanted to rip that hand off, to stomp on it a few times and dismantle Loki piece by piece while he screamed.

"Get your vile, filthy, _disgusting_ hands off of _my_ best friend," I snarled violently, taking a step forwards.

Loki's eyes whipped to me. "Ah-ah-ah," he chided softly, the spear moving towards her throat in a split second. I was shaking, quivering with suppressed fury; I could feel an explosion building inside of me, waiting to decimate everything in my path. Waiting to paint the world with blood.

He smiled at me, and his lips went to April's ear. To this day I don't know what he whispered there, but immediately tears began to well in her eyes, and she blinked furiously, keeping them at bay. Her fists grew ever-tighter. She turned her head to the side, so that she was looking directly at him. Her face was about an inch from his as she gave him a death glare to end all death glares. Given the fact that she was not only _human, _but also tied to a _chair_, her '_I-will-kill-you-bitch' _look should _not _have been so terrifying. April, however, didn't follow the normal human rules of intimidation.

But I was blind to her anger; I was too overwhelmed by my own. The glow grew brighter, hotter. I was too furious to speak; so instead I shouted at Loki in my head: _If one more word comes out from that Silver Tongue of yours, I'll cut you to ribbons. April is completely removed from this world; and if you make her into another one of your lies, another of your __**trophies**__, there will be no where in the nine realms or beyond that you will be able to hide from me. Is that __**perfectly **__clear?_

He just smirked at me as he stood, keeping one clawed hand on April's shoulder. His fingers dug in, obviously painfully, but she didn't seem to notice. Her eyes were on me again, and I knew what she would say if she were not gagged: _"Natalie, who is this cheese ball and when can I kill him?"_

_Soon, _I tried to say in reply. _If I don't do it first. _

But of course, April and I did not have the same link that Loki and I did, so there was no way to actually say this to one another. The Norse god of Mischief had turned his attention entirely back to me now. Still smiling. Like this was all just one big joke…

"I shall make you a deal, Natalie Frost," Loki said, his guard still up and his eyes still hollow. "I will allow April to go free… when you destroy the Avengers for me."

I'd known this was coming, but still I blanched. Still I felt all of the blood rush from my head, making me woozy. Still my heart skipped a beat and still I couldn't help but feel… dismayed. Revolted, even. Here he was, giving me a choice. The most impossible choice.

I could save the Avengers, and give the world a fighting chance against him… or I could save April. And the whole world would fall to his rule.

But…

_But…_

There was a way to save both.

I had known it since the beginning. Despite my shock and horror at Loki's very suggestion of this 'deal', despite how disgusting it was… it was not entirely unexpected. I had known for a very long time that I was going to become Loki's puppet; his pawn. Of course, I'd assumed that he was going to take full control over my mind to do so; assumed that I would be turned into one of his little brainwashed zombies. But that changed nothing; I had prepared for this.

Had I not asked the Avengers to kill me, if I lost control?

What made this so different?

All I would have to do was attack the Avengers. Go along with Loki's plan. Make sure that April was safe. And then… then I would let them kill me. If I died, then Loki would not kill April; he could not blame me if I couldn't survive in a battle against the Earth's mightiest heroes. And then the Avengers would be free to pulverize Loki. Win-win.

I was going to die anyway. I might as well die fighting for what I believed.

Loki laughed, the sound breaking me out of my thoughts. I stared at him. Dammit, dammit, _dammit_! Stupid, ridiculous _telepathic connection_… I had _completely _forgotten about it for just one split second… I cursed in my brain. A lot. Loudly.

"Oh, that has always been the plan," Loki reassured me, ignoring the profanity. His voice dropped to a whisper. "I know you, Natalie Frost. I know you better than you know yourself. And I know that you would not agree to this unless there was a way out. Unless there was a chance for you to…" He hesitated, then found his word, a wicked grin on his face. "_Redeem _yourself, for choosing one friend over the others."

I growled in the back of my throat. My hands, still curled into fists, were now clenched so tightly that my fingernails were cutting into my palms. A single droplet of blood oozed out onto my fingertips; which was saying something, considering how chewed and ripped they were.

_So here is our deal as it now stands, _Loki's voice said in my head, as he remained standing beside April. _You will destroy the Avengers. If you die while fighting them, then I will allow April to live. _He allowed me a moment to search his mind, to scan his every thought on the matter, letting me make sure that he was telling the total, utter and absolute truth. He was. I let him continue, blood still roiling in my thoughts, shadows still cloaking my mind. Every few seconds, a new way of killing him popped into my head. He ignored this, continuing on.

_But, _and there was a trace of emphasis on the word, _you must not simply walk to the Avengers and surrender yourself. You must __**fight, **__Natalie; you must try to win. You must fight them as though they are your true enemies; for if you do not, I __**will **__know. And April…_

His fingertips carefully brushed a strand of long black hair behind my best friend's ear. _Well. I'll leave that to your imagination, shall I?_

The list of profanity that rolled off in my head following this lasted almost three minutes. Loki watched me, waiting me out patiently; but the look in his eyes told me everything I wanted to know. I couldn't attempt anything with his mind; a direct attack, and April would be dead in a heartbeat. I couldn't try and fight him hand-to-hand; if I tried, he'd kill her. There was nothing I could do. There was _nothing _I could do.

And that little son of a Frost Giant _knew _it.

He _knew _that he had won. He _knew _that I had no other way out. His victory was at hand, and there was triumph pumping in his veins, enveloping his heart. His chest swelled with twisted pride, the conquest sparking in his dead eyes… I was trapped. I was scrambling to think of something else I could do, _anything _else I could do… but for all of my power, for all of the strength I supposedly had in this link, for all of my desperation… I couldn't see another way out.

"Well, Miss Frost?" he asked, taking a single step towards me. Not far enough to get the spear away from April's head, but close enough that I could have reached out and touched him. Or, you know. Hit him in the face. "Do we have an accord?"

I felt helpless. I _hated _that feeling, hated being so utterly _useless… _But I stepped forwards, holding out a shaking hand. Scarlet dribbled from the little crescent indents that I had dug into my palms, but this was ignored as I placed my palm against the force field, leaving a smeared stain of red on it. Loki's pale hand pressed against the field as well; the equivalent of a handshake.

"Deal," I agreed tartly, making it sound like a swear. He grinned, and I felt the world around us swirl, the colors draining and the light vanishing. The entire universe flip-flopped, turning inside down and upside out…

But then it was over, and I was stumbling forwards on a stone surface. I was back atop Stark Tower, standing on the roof. Moments later, so were Loki and April. The air was cold and the sun weak in the sky; the clouds made everything bleak and desolate. Usually such a perfect day, to me. But it's beauty was marred by presence of the Asgardian beside me.

"They should be here soon," Loki informed me breezily, standing closer to the edge, waiting for the carnage. April remained gagged and bound, her eyes crackling with electric, living hatred despite the tear stains on her cheeks. Loki waved a hand and the headset in my ear came to life; immediately, static burst in, accompanied by Barton's voice.

"_-Negative, Tony." _

"_All right," _That was the Captain. "_Everyone fall back and regroup at the Tower."_

"_Agreed," _Tony sounded incredibly deflated. Drained of his usual pompous arrogance. I re-adjusted the headset and looked to Loki, confused.

"It is linked with the Avengers' communication systems," he explained easily. "You hear what they hear."

Ugh, the way he was acting so casual about it… it killed me. As though he just expected me to be completely on his side now, his little puppet… his _dog. _I was just meant to obey now; I had no other function… I was just a robot. One way or another, he was making me do what he wanted; and I had to switch my loyalties at the drop of a hat…

But if I wanted April to live… that's _exactly _what I had to do.

I swallowed and fell into battle mode. No longer just turning off my emotions, not anymore. Now I was rewriting them. I had been broken down and defeated, and now from the smoldering remains, I was carving out a new person; a puppet, enslaved to her king, dancing along to his tune as he pulled the strings. Whoever I was, whatever was left of Natalie Frost, I could not afford to be that. I had to be a shell, hollowed out, then filled to the brim with his twisted laughter, his dark commands. It was harder than I'd thought; I hadn't believed that there was enough left of me existing in the world to survive an onslaught like this. But Natalie's hatred still burned inside of this wooden shell.

"And where were they?" I asked. Despite my hidden fury, my tone was dull and flat. As though I truly did not care any longer. "Why do they have to 'regroup' back here?"

Loki's smile stretched a little. "They were searching your mother's house. They thought that I might take her. They also took your father to the hospital." He glanced to April. "If it's any consultation, they searched your house as well." He told us both, though he was speaking directly to her. "But they did not arrive in time."

Thank you, Captain Obvious. If they had arrived on time, I wouldn't be in this mess. I adjusted the headset in my ear and took a deep breath, trying to re-orient my thoughts for the battle ahead. I threw a punch and felt the nanos react, sending the shield out a bit in the direction that my fist had gone. So it was more than just a bubble, then. It could be manipulated. Changed.

I shook out my arms and legs, thinking back to training earlier that morning- was it just this morning? It felt like a lifetime ago- and feeling my heart in my throat. Everything I knew about the Avengers' fighting styles… everything I knew about _them… _I would have to use it against them.

The fact that Clint and Natasha were only human. Steve's vulnerability without his shield. All of these things were weaknesses when faced against an enemy like myself.

And I _was _the enemy.

I was a monster.

I shoved the thought aside. I couldn't afford it right now. I waited impatiently for them to show up, waited impatiently for my fate to arrive. One way or another, when this was all over, I was going to die. I just had to hope the right people killed me.

I didn't realize how afraid I was until I saw the brilliant arc of light that was the trail of Tony's repulsors, streaming towards the Tower at breakneck speeds. Thor came from a separate direction, and moments after them were the cars that carried Steve, Banner, Natasha and Clint. A shiver ran through me. My heart sped up, a pitter-patter of uneven beats.

_I can't do this. _

Terror came for me at last, and suddenly I was panicking, trembling. Despite the cold air, my forehead was dripping sweat, making my hair cling to it. I couldn't do this. I couldn't fight the Avengers, I couldn't _kill _myself…

I turned around. I don't know what I was looking for, exactly- an escape? A way out?- but I saw April. Her eyes were locked on my headset. She seemed almost… thoughtful. But then she noticed that I was looking at her, and her eyes tightened.

Yes. I could.

To save someone else, I could.

I turned back to the edge of the building, braced myself, and jumped.

Here's a strange fact of life for you: when two objects collide at a force equivalent to a twenty-year-old plummeting to the earth, one of those objects is going to give. Usually, it would be the twenty-year-old.

In this case, it was the earth.

The bubble took most of the force on itself, the nanobots locking my feet against the bottom of the shield so that I didn't go bouncing around inside it. The ground rippled away from me, leaving a massive indent in the street as I landed in a crouch; both feet and one hand on the ground. Rocks and rubble went flying, a cloud of dust choking the air around me. I heard the screech of car tires, the loud blare of a horn, the sickening sound of metal against metal as two collided into each other. I didn't know if it was the Avengers' cars or someone else's. I didn't see how it mattered.

As the dust settled, I saw the Avengers, pulling themselves out of their respective vehicles, with Thor and Tony landing on the ground beside me. In seconds, they had me surrounded, guards up, ready to fight. Well, not Banner. He simply stood there with a cold expression on his face. But then the dust cloud dissipated, and I stood among them all, the shield all but invisible despite the carnage that it had created.

Immediately, they all relaxed. Tony even grinned, his face plate shifting upwards to reveal his features. "Natalie!" He exclaimed. "We were so worri…"

He trailed off as he caught sight of my face. "Natalie?" Steve asked, stepping up. "What's wrong?"

I looked up, glancing once more to the tiny speck at the top of the Tower; the small little figure that was Loki Laufeyson. Then I turned back to the Avengers; they were all hesitant, wary. All eyes were wide, innocent…

I swallowed and forced myself to say, "I'm sorry."

Hawkeye caught on first. I hadn't even struck before his bow was loaded and an arrow came streaking my way. It bounced harmlessly off of the bubble, the shaft cracking in half as I threw a blow towards Thor. The force field slammed into his chest, sending him flying backwards, taken completely off guard. Immediately, Tony's face plate slammed down again, and he took off from the ground, hovering above the earth.

"Natalie, what the hell?" He asked, stunned. The other Avengers went into immediate action, but everyone was thrown by my sudden switch in allegiances. They stumbled about, their training forgotten for a split second as they tried to work together as the team they were. But that split second was my opportunity, and, spurred on by Loki's promises, I took it.

A quick double jab towards Natasha; she dodged the first but not the second, collapsing to the ground.

"You remember that time when I asked you not to hesitate?" I inquired of Tony. I didn't stop moving. Didn't stop fighting. I dodged a strike from Clint and rolled into a blow, throwing it towards Steve. He deflected it with his shield; it was strange, fighting them so desperately and yet silently rooting for them in my head. Well, not so silently, but still in my head.

The bubble and the shield pressed tight against each other, grating against each other as the Captain and I held our ground, not backing away. "Remember what I asked of you all?" I demanded.

The Death Question. Obviously, Clint remembered, because he was full on the attack, firing arrow after arrow towards me, despite how little of an effect they had. But he was not my concern.

"No," Tony breathed. It was not an answer to my query; it was a complete and absolute denial of reality.

"Oh, yes," I gave Steve a painful little smile and pushed away from him; the bubble shoved against his shield and sent me backwards. My hair whipped in front of my eyes as I turned to Clint, trying to get away.

"You all swore," I reminded them. "All of you. Except Tony." I gave him a half-glance as I charged towards Clint, who barely managed to step away in time. "Now would be a really good time for you to reconsider, Toaster Man."

Natasha, having recovered from her earlier blow, slammed into the bubble, dragging the knife across the surface. Searching for the weakness. I fell back, allowing the bubble to fall backwards as well, with Natasha beside it. She danced to the side right before it crushed her against the ground. I stood ready again, backing away to asses them all once more.

"No way, no how, Nat," Tony growled. "We're getting you out of this." He hadn't fired once. I leapt off the ground and towards Steve, who intercepted me with his shield once again. I threw blow after blow at it, trying to get around it, even kicking at his legs once or twice. The force field around me responded every time, stretching away from my hands or feet, slamming into the shield but never catching Rodgers himself. Thank goodness; one good blow from me and the Cap was going bye bye.

"No, Tone," I said, a bit breathy already. I wasn't a warrior by nature. "You're not."

And then I whirled, throwing myself towards the one person who had been staying out of the fight. The one person who had been standing by, doing nothing.

As I slammed into him, my mind suddenly cleared; all thoughts were removed, save two that echoed and bounced around in my grey matter.

The first: _take out the strongest player while he's at his weakest._

The second: _I really, __**really**__ hope the Other Guy remembers his promise…_

Bruce fell to the ground, and my little bubble of a shield rolled right over him, pressing his prone body into the street. He cried out in pain, and I rolled off of him, stepping back to see the damage. I stood tall, breathing heavily. I wasn't fighting as hard as I could. No, that wasn't true; I was giving it everything I had. But Loki wasn't going to see it that way. I had to fight harder.

"I'm sorry, Bruce," I whispered as I stepped forwards and slammed my hand into his face. Or tried to; the shield did it for me, actually. I threw another blow. Another. Another.

_No. No, stop. Not Bruce, __**please **__not Bruce…_

Then who?

Who, if not Bruce?

Who here could I _possibly _kill? Who here could I stand to live without? Who here could the world _survive _without?

None of them. I couldn't do this.

_Don't make me do this…_

Steve's shield ricocheted off of mine, spinning through the air in a twist of patriotic colors before returning to his hands. I looked up at him. His eyes met mine.

He nodded.

He remembered.

I scanned the area. Tony was still hovering above me, useless as usual. No immediate threat. Hawkeye had disappeared; probably to get to higher ground. Also no immediate threat. I pulled myself away from Bruce's prone form as his skin tone began to darken, to turn green. His arms started bulging; followed quickly by the rest of him. Immediate threat.

I had to get away.

Thor streaked down from the sky, coming out of no where; the battle was roaring in my ears as lightning cascaded all around me, reverberating into the earth, shaking the very ground on which I stood. I felt the blow tremble through me, sending my bones shaking, my every molecule vibrating. How had I lost sight of him? How had I not known where he was?

Did I really _care_?

It was the closest they'd gotten so far to penetrating this stupid force field. I felt the blow rattle through me, the energy in the air making my hair stand on end. But, as the light died down, I saw that my shield had held. The blend of science and magic had made the Death Bubble all but immune to Mjolnir's strength.

Shit.

In my head, I could hear Loki's laughter. Could taste his bittersweet victory on my tongue. His words came out of my mouth _without _my permission, bypassing Natalie Frost and revealing the monster within.

His laughter spilled from my lips, so fierce and painful that it sent me stumbling backwards. It was hysterical. Insane. "Well, _brother_?" I demanded of Thor in a shriek, stepping back. Shock wiped his features clean of all other emotion; shock that this fatal strike had not succeeded, shock that his brother was speaking through the small form of a mortal girl. I laughed again, the sound wrenching through me with such force that I almost collapsed onto my hands and knees as I keened at the skies, "Am I your _equal_ now?"

After another bout of fierce laughter, I swallowed back his words, putting a tight lid on them, tying them down with heavy chains and sealing them away in a steel coffin. But something cracked inside me; my usual, snide personality bled through the splintering web that had suddenly split open in my chest. No thoughts of April's safety could stop me from snapping, "Oh, quit being such a _baby!_ You are a fully grown man, for Pete's sake, this constant _whining _has got to-"

I was cut off mid-sentence as the Hulk barreled into me.

I was airborne in seconds, sent soaring backwards, completely taken off guard. The initial blow had shuddered through the bubble; and long before the nanos had been able to stabilize me, my face slammed into the inside of the force field. They quickly held me in place as the bubble started rolling around and around in the air. I was finally brought to a halt as I crashed into a building; not Stark Tower, but another skyscraper that clawed towards the clouds. Rubble and concrete dust rained around me as I registered the screaming for the first time; people were running away, fleeing the scene. Racing away from the Avengers and the monster that they were battling.

I coughed, the dust infiltrating through wherever my Achilles heel resided. My neck ached, and I could see blood on my cheek from where my face had struck, but otherwise, I was alive. I waved a hand in front of my face, trying to clear away the choking powder in the air as I pulled myself upright, looking at my new foe. I stared.

I'd just beaten the snot out of Bruce Banner, it was true. But there was no way in hell that _this _was Bruce Banner.

I'd seen pictures of the Hulk; I'd even seen a bit of live-action footage. But none of that. _None _of that. Could have prepared me for _this _monstrosity.

To say that the Hulk was 'big', or 'huge' or even '_gargantuan'_ would be the understatement of the guy towered over us all, his green skin stretched tight over thick, rippling muscles. Were it not for the bubble, one of his hands could probably have wrapped itself around my entire body. There was none of Banner's sly, subtle intelligence in this guy's eyes; he had been wholly changed, replaced. There was no man here.

There was only the monster.

_Finally._

I wiped my lip as I got to my feet. The Hulk let out a massive, sky-splitting roar that made loose rocks skitter across the asphalt beneath me, the stones vibrating with the deafening noise. For some reason, as I dropped into my defensive stance, I found myself grinning a little. My heartbeat quickened as I looked Big Green over. No matter how hard I fought, no matter how 'indestructible' I was thought to be, no matter _what_… I didn't have a _chance. _

"All right, then," I said, my grin turning strangely wicked. I wiped blood off of my cheek and stared death in the eye. Because death wears purple shorts. "Let's dance."

The Hulk and I charged at the same time, meeting in a head-on collision that pushed me backwards again. His gi-freaking-normous hands wrapped around the bubble, the shield showing in a faded blue for just a second, and he started to shake it, obviously intending on sending me rattling around, helpless as a hamster in a plastic ball. But the nanos immediately reasserted themselves, locking me into one place, keeping me from colliding with my own shield, keeping me righted and in one position until the Hulk threw me like a basketball. As I went flying backwards, getting incredibly dizzy, something rose up to intercept me. Thor. Or, more specifically, Mjolnir.

The hammer slammed into the bubble, sending me careening again. I fell onto the asphalt, surprisingly undamaged despite everything. Indestructible bubble; really does what it says on the label.

Sheesh. What was it going to take to _kill _me?

But at least Thor seemed in on it; ready and willing to destroy me before I could hurt the Avengers. I realized that I'd never really asked him to do so face to face and was grateful that he seemed to recognize the need for it, anyway. But there was sadness in his eyes every time he looked at me… Sadness that sent black triumph coursing through me. Stupid Loki with his stupid jealousy and stupid _brother issues. _Just hug it out and be done with it already!

The other Avengers were surrounding me; they were no longer wasting time. Well, everyone but Tony. He stayed where he was. Watching. Helpless.

"_Stark!" _I heard Hawkeye's voice calling through my little earpiece as an explosive arrow rained down by my head; I struggled back to my feet, and Natasha came in for the kill. She was knocked aside with ease, but Steve quickly came up to take her place. I lost myself in the madness of the battle, barely keeping up with what Barton was saying to Stark.

"_I think I've got a clear shot," _He said. I cursed Loki in my head for giving me this stupid ear piece; but I dodged away quickly, doing zig-zags, trying to make him lose said 'clear shot'. If I hadn't known about it, this could all be over…

I heard Clint swear as he lost it, and I forced myself into the fray again. But Barton was quickly re-gaining control over the situation. _"That little hazy patch, just above her shoulder. Is that it?"_

Still trying to determine my weakness. I glanced to where Barton had suggested it was, and my heart twisted. I could see it; barely, but it was definitely there. I was certain that Hawkeye's assumption was right; that this was my weakness. The gap in my impenetrable armor. I skipped backwards lightly as the Hulk's fists rained down at me.

One explosive arrow. That would be all it would take. Clint wouldn't even have to directly hit _me; _just get it through the gap. He just had to get his aim again, and this would all be over.

So why the _hell _hadn't Stark affirmed his shot?

"_No!_" I heard him shout through the intercom. I looked up to him for just a brief second, and the Hulk's enormous palm sent me into another spin. I felt like I was going to throw up. "_Don't waste your arrows, Clint." _Tony said darkly. _"That's not it."_

_You lying sack of shit._ I glared up at Tony, but kept my big mouth shut. To contradict him now would mean that I wasn't 'doing my best' to win this fight. It would mean that I wasn't trying hard enough. It would mean that April could be killed, even if I was killed first.

Ugh. I would've given anything to get my hands on Loki… for just _one second…_

I struggled to stay upright, but the Hulk was practically playing ping-pong with me. My feet stayed locked in one place, so that I wasn't bouncing about _inside _the bubble, but the thing itself was flying everywhere. I was getting seriously sick, and was afraid I'd vomit in this thing; that would make things a _whole _lot messier.

Finally, unable to keep up with this helplessness, because I had to _fight_, I focused on the nanos keeping me locked upright. Forced them to turn off, to let me move again. It took a moment, but it finally happened; I fell sideways with an '_oof!_'

But I was free to move about properly now. As the Hulk came forwards for another blow, and Thor joined him, I barreled towards big, green, and ugly, aiming at his legs. I slammed into him; the bubble sent him backwards a few steps, and I kept fighting, kept going towards him…

Tony still wasn't fighting…

"Dammit, Stark," I said into my headpiece, throwing blow after blow towards the Hulk. It did absolutely squat; the guy just finally got pissed enough to step on me. His foot pressed into the bubble, pushing it down into the ground, but even that strain was not enough to break it.

"Beating you up is the only good thing about this crazy mess," I joked hollowly with Tony. The Hulk's fists started to rain down on the bubble, pushing it-and me- further and further into the ground. Shoving me deeper into the earth, creating a crater, a hole, a tomb. "It's no fun if you don't help me out."

"I'm not going to kill you, Nat," His voice rang clear in the earpiece. "I _won't._"

"Your loss," I said, throwing a blow at Hulk's oncoming hand. He pulled it back just long enough for me to struggle out of the indent my bubble had made in the earth. Not that it really hurt him; it was just a shock. Natasha rejoined the battle, back on the attack again. I cursed. Didn't she understand that she was the weakest link here? That if she came at me one more time…

_Sorry, _I thought as I threw both hands towards her; the force field surrounding me threw itself forwards, slamming into her, throwing her back. She cried out as she skidded backwards across the asphalt, and I chased after her. She was on the ground now, and I slammed blow after blow into her face, just as I had done with Bruce… blood began to dribble out of her nose…

A volley of arrows plunged at me, one after another in rapid succession, never once missing… Natasha slumped limply to the side… my hand raised for one final blow… the force field was dripping small rivulets of crimson…

_Not Natasha… please… Loki, please, don't make me do this, don't make me into a monster…_

_I'm not making you into anything. This is who you have always been._

Two things stopped the final blow from coming. The first, Steve's shield got in the way. I was about to thank the Captain profusely, despite how I was already raising my hand for the next strike; but the second thing stopped me from speaking. Stopped me from thinking. Stopped me from doing anything.

Hulk's hands slammed together, his palms crashing against one another… the force behind it sent a ripple of sound and energy flaring outwards, throwing back everything in its path. The air rippled apart, torn in two by sheer power, which the earth flow like water for the briefest of seconds. Then the ground cracked apart and the street was reduced to rubble. This wave of pure energy sent me flying back for the bazillionth time; but I saw immediately why the Hulk had not done this before. I was not the only one caught up in the blast; Steve and Natasha were as well. As I was thrown all the way back into Stark Tower, slamming inside whilst the rubble rained down around me, the others were scattered about like so many leaves in the wind. Even Tony, who had been hovering just a little bit lower, was sent far away from the fight, the shockwave shoving him out of the air and away from us. And Thor… well he fared best out of all of us, though he, too, was sent back. But it was not far enough to keep him from the fray for long.

I lay on the ground, surrounded by this impenetrable force field but still gasping as though the wind had been knocked out of me. My ears were ringing, my skin crawling. On some core, primal level, my entire body was rejecting the idea that something-_anything-_ could be that powerful. For a brief moment, I simply lay there, listening to the hollow echoing of concrete and steel crumbling to the ground, the scraping of stone against stone slowly getting clearer as the ringing died down. But then I thought of what I must do, and why I must do it; I pulled myself to my feet, shaky and weak and weary, but alive. And alive meant fighting.

I coughed away dust, hoping that it would settle on the bubble, perhaps paint Clint's target better. I started lurching towards the hole in the wall that I'd created on my unexpected entry into the Tower.

"And testing, testing, one two three!"

I froze. My hand whipped up to the headset, pressing it closer in my ear. No. It couldn't be. That sounded like…

"April?" I asked in disbelief.

I heard her cackling on the line; it was laughter befitted to a mad scientist. "Aw, hell yes! I am a certified _genius!_"

I heard the Hulk roaring outside and hesitated just behind the hole I'd created in the wall. I had to get back out there, back into the fight.

But if April was okay…

"Where are you?" I demanded, not wasting time.

"I'm upstairs, of course."

I turned and started to tear towards the stairs as I heard the Hulk crashing through the building behind me. I kept running; if I had to, I'd fight later. I pulled frantic walls around my thoughts, trying to keep Loki out, trying to keep him from knowing that April was… wherever she was.

"Told you that pocketknife would come in handy," April informed me, way too cheerfully. "I'm about a floor down from the roof; I managed to hack into your intercom." I could hear her smirk. "Who says science is useless now?"

I kept running. The Hulk seemed almost… hesitant behind me. Probably Banner's influence. Or Steve; the Captain had stopped as well. But of course; he could hear us, too. He would know what was happening.

"April, listen, you've got to get _out _of there. Loki's going to find you at any second…"

"Oh, he already has."

"_What?"_ I skidded to a halt. No. No, not when I'd thought I could get her away, not when I'd thought that we could all survive…

"Yeah. But I'm keeping him back."

"_How?_"

She still sounded so bright and happy. So optimistic. If it weren't for the little quiver in her voice that betrayed her, I might have actually believed that she wasn't scared. "Well… the gun at my head isn't hurting…"

I froze; my every muscle stiffened. That didn't make sense. Loki wouldn't use a gun, and anyway, he was already threatening her life. The only way that would keep him back was if…

If…

If _she _was…

"You'd be surprised how many of these things are in this place," April said, still talking easily. The quiver had gone. My throat closed as a flash of a scene entered my head, unwanted, unwelcome, but nonetheless true… April, a floor down from the roof, a smile on her face, a gun in her hand, pressed against the side of her own head.

"April…" I breathed, in utter shock. Then it died down, and rage took its place. "April, _what_ in the name of all that is _sane_ in this _universe_ do you think that _you_ are _doing?_"

And then I was running again, throwing myself up the stairs, three at a time. Her reply came back just seconds later.

"Well, I _think _that I'm saving your bacon."

I shook my head fiercely, still running. I didn't know what I could do if I made it in time, if I could even run all the way up those stairs in the first place… and if I did, what could I do? If I attacked Loki while April was like this, he'd just kill her anyway. He wouldn't care. If April tried to run, he'd kill her. If the Avengers attacked, he'd kill her. If I did _anything _but fight the Avengers, if I did _anything _but follow our deal… He'd kill her.

"No, April, you don't understand…"

"I understand perfectly, Natalie." She answered easily. "I'm just changing the game."

Still running. Pulse still pounding. Glow getting brighter.

"I saw you fighting out there," She told me. So casual. Like we were talking about her latest boyfriend, or the B- she got on a test. "It was pretty impressive. I take it _this _is why you were stuck here at the Tower?"

She was _way_ too calm for someone who was staring her own mortality in the face. But I answered. I had to keep her talking; as least long enough for me to reach her… "Yeah. Made a pizza delivery here a few months ago. Got superpowers."

"That's one hell of a tip."

I wanted to laugh, but I couldn't. The air choked me. My legs were on fire, and I was completely exhausted… but I kept running anyway. The bubble dug gouges out of the walls wherever they were too close together.

There was silence in my headset for a moment. Then, April's voice came back. It still held its usual brightness, it still did not waver, but there was a harder edge to it now. A steely note, buried beneath bravado and cheer. "Just tell me the truth, Nat."

It was like ice water had been injected into my veins. April never called me Nat. _Never. _She knew what it meant to me, knew it was my father's term, knew how much it hurt…

So if she was using that nickname now… This was beyond serious. She'd asked for the truth and she would _know _if I was lying.

"What happens if he wins?"

I ran almost as a reflex now; almost as though I couldn't _stop _myself from running. I debated taking the elevator the final few floors, wondered if that would've been easier… but Loki could have easily sabotaged it the second I stepped aboard. It would have done me no good.

If he won…?

I swallowed thickly. I had to be honest. I had to tell her the truth. No more lies. No more deceptions.

No more acting like _him._

For the first time since this whole thing had happened… I told April the full truth. The truest thing that I had said to her in months. I was doing the right thing.

But it felt so _wrong. _

"If he wins…" I couldn't force the words out. "Then the world becomes his. We all bow to him."

"Ew," April's sound of disgust was so immediate it was almost reflexive. But then she was quiet again. After another long moment, her voice a lot quieter, she asked, "Natalie?"

"Yeah?"

"Why the hell would you let that happen… just for me?"

I choked again. "Because it doesn't have to happen. If I die fighting the Avengers…"

"And what makes you think that you _will?_" She demanded, cutting me off, and suddenly her voice was a lot harsher. Like she couldn't stop the words from pouring out. "Beyond that, what makes you think that's _better?_ What makes you think that I'm gonna let you just _die _for _me? _Are you ins-" She shut up abruptly, taking a deep breath. I could hear it on the other end, a rush of static through the headset. Calm again, she said firmly, "No. Don't you dare die for me, Natalie. _You're _the superhero. The world needs _you _now."

"April… what…?"

She didn't reply for a very long time. "Change the game, Nat. Take this bastard down. And…" Another pause. I made it to her floor and tore through the rooms, throwing open doors, trying to get there in time…

"Tell my family I love them, and… tell my mom…" Her voice wavered. "Tell her it wasn't her fault."

"April! April, what the hell are you _doing!_ _**April!**_**"**

But it was too late. Long before my hand slammed into the door, long before I made it into the room, the sound of gunfire cracked through the air.

That sound rippled across the entire planet, a noise that could break through anything, a noise that blasted my eardrums with raw disbelief. It shattered everything in its path, reduced it to dust and broken glass; shattering the silence, shattering my sanity, shattering the whole world.

I couldn't hear my own footsteps. I couldn't hear my breathing, couldn't hear the sounds of Hulk wreaking havoc below. As I pushed open the door, I couldn't hear its hinges squeaking, couldn't hear _anything _but the roaring of my own heartbeat in my ears. I… It…

_It couldn't be._

Tears were already streaking down my face as I entered the room. Loki was standing by the door, his eyes wide, locked on the frail-looking form at the other end of the room.

Black hair was splayed about around her head, blood trickling onto the floor, a bullet wound leaking scarlet from the side of her head. The gun had scattered away from her hand as she'd fallen, just inches away from her pale fingertips. She wasn't moving. Wasn't breathing. There was no way she could have survived.

I could feel nothing. I _knew _I was in pain, _knew _that agony was rippling through me. I knew that the darkness was pressing in on all sides once again, knew that the world had become that much worse… But I could feel _nothing._ Like Novocain; I could feel that the damage was being done, could feel something being cut and ripped open in my chest, but, for now, I was completely numb. Ignoring Loki completely, I shuffled over to April's limp form, my footsteps wooden.

It was only as I knelt beside her, only as I reached out to touch her face and realized that I could not, that the pain struck. The bubble kept me from picking her up, from holding her in my arms, from holding her close and sobbing… I was utterly isolated from her, from the rest of the world… Alone.

I was so _alone._

Sobs wracked my entire body, sending sharp jabs of pain through me. After everything that had happened, after _everything _that I had been through, everything I had done… With all of my power, with all of my strength… I couldn't hold on to the things that I loved.

My father.

My life.

_April._

I stayed on my hands and knees beside her for a long time, but then I started to shake. To tremble. I stood slowly, purposefully, pain still burning hot through every inch of me. My veins started pumping pure fire, my head screaming in anguish. I felt tortured; like every wound I had acquired that day was suddenly ripped open again, made so much worse… I could barely move…

But, despite all of that, I was still turning around. My feet seemed to have a will of their own, the puppet's strings being pulled upright, moving this wooden shell of a body, reorienting it to face the one responsible.

Loki was looking at me in horror. As I lurched towards him, he took a half-step backwards. For the first time, there was emotion in his eyes: _fear. _More than that; there was pure mortal _terror _in his features. He swallowed; I could see the action in his throat. I could taste blood in my mouth now, shuffling towards him like the creature from a cheap horror movie.

"You," I said in a whisper, my voice barely audible. "You… take… _everything._"

He raised a hand; his fingers were shaking. "N-Natalie…" He said, changing his tune _very _quickly. I could hear his tone, trying to be reasonable, trying to rationalize everything. I stopped him before he could say anything else.

"_No!"_ I screeched; the word ripped me in two, tearing me in half. Then tearing me again. "No, no more from you, no more _lies!" _I was breathing heavily, sucking air through my teeth. "You wanted me to become this? You wanted me to be a _monster?_" I threw my arms out; the bubble expanded on all sides, growing larger and larger. I could feel the nanos in my blood, flowing with my command, flowing along the tide of my rage.

"_FINE!"_ I shouted at the top of my lungs. _"Then I'm a __**monster!**__"_

Trembling with every step, I flung myself towards him, expecting to meet resistance, expecting to fight the battle of my life.

Instead, I met nothing. I ran straight through him, my shield running against nothing but air. It crashed against the wall beyond, sending parts of it crumbling. Sending the Tower shaking. I whirled again. Loki was still standing, still facing the place where I had been just moments ago; I had run right through him.

And now… now he flickered a little, in and out of existence. He turned to me, slowly, carefully, step by step. The smile was back, and wider than ever, every one of his perfect white teeth showing. The punch line of his enormous joke had finally arrived. I stared.

It was one of his projections. One of his illusionary clones. Another trick, another _lie._ But that wasn't _possible; _he'd touched April earlier, had stroked her hair behind her cheek, he'd been _real…_

And then it hit me. Loki and I had been separate for only a split second; when I had been transported to Stark Tower. He had sent me here, then followed moments later with April in tow.

Except, he _hadn't _followed.

He had never been here to begin with.

He knew everything I knew about April. He would have known about the pocketknife she always carried with her. He would have known about her personality, her ability to be a hero when it really mattered. He would have known everything.

He'd set this up from the beginning.

I trembled where I stood, facing him head-on. He chuckled very lightly.

"Yes, Natalie." He said, sweetly. Compassionately. The use of my first name was like acid dribbling into my ears. "You are a monster. _My _monster. And you will do that which I always knew you would." His eyes sparkled. How could a face so kind be saying words so cruel? "You will destroy the Avengers for me."

My hands clenched into fists, rising up to protect myself, to fight. "What makes you think I'll do _anything _for you?" I found myself shouting.

He laughed aloud. "Oh, my dear Miss Frost!"

He vanished abruptly, fading out of existence, but I could still hear his voice in my head. _You no longer have a choice._

It was only then that I realized the bubble was still expanding.

Clint burst into the room, looking winded. He probably just ran up the stairs, too. He was followed quickly by Steve. The Hulk, Natasha and Thor were no where to be seen, but I noticed then that Tony was_ already _here; he had likely arrived when I'd first started attacking Loki, but hadn't interceded out of… well, shock. Shock at what was happening, at the bloodlust in my eyes… But I had been blinded to him; my rage making me see nothing but Loki.

Tony took a step forwards. "Natalie, you have to _calm down_," he ordered. The bubble kept growing, pushing the wall behind me out of the way; it crumbled at last, concrete shattering into rock and powder around me. A few of the Avengers coughed, but Tony took another step towards me. "The nanobots are reacting to your emotions," He explained, "This thing is going to keep expanding until it destroys everything. If you don't pull it together… New York will be wiped out."

He was saying this in a very grim way, his affect flat and determined… but determined to do _what?_ He was so damn _useless…_

More tears kept streaking down my cheeks. "Damn you, Tony Stark!" I found my rage re-directing itself, throwing itself at the person closest. In this case, Stark. "Why didn't you just _kill _me? Why did you have to lie to Clint? Why didn't you tell him to take the shot, why wouldn't you kill me, _why?!"_ The pain was coming back for me, lurking like a monster in the shadows. Reemerging again and again, striking and fading, striking and fading…"If you had just let me die, if you had just killed me… then April… she wouldn't be… wouldn't be…"

I lost it. I couldn't say the word out loud, because to say it aloud would be to admit its truth, to accept it. I couldn't accept it. It couldn't be true.

I crumpled to the ground, unable to move, unable to think or breathe or… _anything. _I curled into a ball, wrapping my arms around my head, curled in on myself. I shook my head back and forth fiercely, gasping for air, my heartbeat dead behind my ribs, and yet pounding fiercely. No. No, she wasn't dead, it wasn't possible, she _wasn't dead_. It didn't matter that I'd seen the body, heard her last words, heard the gunshot, seen the blood… It wasn't true. It hadn't happened. After all, she'd been so far removed from the situation…

And hadn't that been the purpose of all the lies? Hadn't that been the reason I was staying away from her? To keep her away from _my _misery, to keep her away from the death that followed me like a plague…?

I was worthless. A failure. I couldn't save her, I couldn't save _anyone…_ I couldn't stop Loki. For all of my so-called 'power', I couldn't stop Loki, and now I wasn't going to be able to stop myself, wasn't going to be able to keep myself from destroying _everything… _

_His puppet and his pawn/ his darkest hour undone/ his servant and his crime/ her betrayal to her time._

Those little riddles and poems that he'd put into my head, back when he'd first met me, back when the nightmares were just nightmares. Back when the bubble was an innocent mistake, back when April was alive and the world was normal… somehow these words made it back to me now, echoing in my head, even after all this time. I couldn't stop sobbing. Clint, Steve and Tony were talking to me, trying to get me to calm down, trying to say something… But their words fell on deaf ears, becoming jumbled and twisted and warped into abysmal, undeterminable noises. I couldn't understand them, couldn't make _sense _of _anything…_

"Natalie."

Banner's voice pierced the darkness, whispered very softly beside me. I looked to him; my vision swam, but from what I could see, he was a lot worse for the wear. Covered in dark earth, his pants ripped and tattered, hanging a little bit too loose on his frame; and his shirt was completely gone. His hair was made a lot paler with the dust that was scattered in it, messy and tangled above his head. Thor stood to the side; he must've gotten the Hulk under control, and probably flown Banner up here. Natasha was still missing; that was my fault, too. Who knew who else I had killed… How many innocent lives on the streets were taken, brutally, mercilessly, by this monster within…

I sniffed a little, and I couldn't stop the tears; they just kept coming, torrents and waterfalls, pouring down my cheeks… I tried to wipe my face with my shirt sleeve unsuccessfully. Under the strain of its continued growth, the bubble was flickering, so that I could see it every so often; a pale blue circle of energy, growing and growing. Bruce stood just outside it, taking a step back from time to time to keep it from crashing into him.

"You should go," I said quickly, my voice cracking. "Get out of here. We can't stop this."

Banner shook his head slightly. "We're not leaving New York defenseless, Natalie."

"And we're not leaving you," Steve said, a lot firmer. Tony nodded agreement; as did Thor and Clint (though his bow was still loaded).

I shuddered, a tremor running down my spine. "I'm just… I can't… I just _can't…" _I looked to Bruce, eyes wide. Pleading. The question came from my very core, the question that I had always needed answered, without ever realizing it…"How do you do it, Bruce? How do you keep it back, how do you stop yourself from becoming… a monster?"

"You're not a monster, Natalie," Tony said instantly, taking a step back, away from the bubble. It was starting to grow faster now. I struggled to keep it back, to force the nanobots to work for me… but as always, they seemed to have a mind of their own. Or maybe it was Loki's mind.

"Yes you are," Bruce answered, his words just as quick, but far colder. I looked to him, keeping my focus solely on _him. _If I thought about _anything _else, for even a _second… _I would lose it again. Already my thoughts were swirling and chaotic, already I could barely make sense of what I was thinking. Like a dream; I could understand things so completely at one second, but then look back at it in the next and realize that it was utter gibberish.

"You can be a monster, Natalie," Bruce went on, very gentle. "You have the ability to destroy everything… and sometimes… that's all you want. Because it seems like that's all you have left."

I wrapped my arms close to myself, hugging them to my body. My throat closed. My mouth felt dry. And, of course, the tears kept coming. The fact that April was dead just kept hitting me, slashing into me, stabbing at my heart; whatever was left of it.

Bruce placed a hand on the bubble; I saw it expanding at an even faster pace, forcing Tony and Thor to hover outside the window while Clint and Steve headed for the stairs. Bruce seemed content to allow the field to corral him into a corner, pressing him against the wall. "I can't tell you how furious I am, Natalie. I can't tell you how much I hate this world sometimes; hate what has been done to me, hate what the world has done… but that doesn't make me into a monster. And it doesn't have to make you one, either." He was trapped; there was nothing more for him but the wall. Not that it would matter; he'd just explode into the Hulk again if his life was threatened.

"All of that anger, Natalie… you have to _use_ it. You can't let it use you."

Use it.

My anger. My pain.

I could _use _it.

But not in the way Banner was thinking, not metaphorical at all…

Oh, Loki Laufeyson, you cold-hearted, sociopathic, Frost Giant son of a bitch.

I freaking _love_ you.

"Death wish."

Banner seemed completely taken aback by the words that came out of me; but I didn't explain. I didn't have _time _to explain.

I closed my eyes, forcing myself to concentrate before the despair could pull me under again, before my hatred could swamp me, before the vengeance and anguish that tumbled in me could take me over again. With single-minded purpose, I broke down every last one of the walls that stood between me and Loki, bridging the void between us.

Loki was all about taking risks; very personal risks to life and limb. This mental link had never really made sense to me: I'd never _understood _it before. If he had a death wish- and I was fairly certain he _did-_ then why didn't he just try and face the Avengers head-on? Why wasn't he confronting us face-to-face? Why wasn't he taking those extreme risks, why wasn't he putting himself directly in the line of fire?

Unless he _was._

Clint was right. This link was _extremely _personal. Loki's pain was my pain. But _my_ pain could also become _his _pain. I hadn't thought of it before, but now it seemed so clear; it was probably one of the reasons why Loki hadn't stayed personally to watch the carnage begin, why he'd left one of his little illusion clones to get the job done instead. Wherever he was, this pain of mine… it was _killing _him. It _had _to be. Because it was killing _me. _

I tore apart all barriers between us, decimated everything that stood in our way. I'd been blocking my thoughts for so long that I'd almost been doing it as a reflex; but no longer. Now, not only was I banishing _my _walls, but I was attacking _his _as well.

And he was already weak.

His little 'powerful' act was a farce; like it always was, like it always had been. He was in almost as much pain as _I _was, and his mind could not withstand a direct attack. Moments after I threw myself at the black wall between us, it vanished, our minds flooding together, our thoughts meshing again. Despite everything, it felt… right. Better.

Like I was a little bit more whole…

I pushed this thought aside. No more playing around. No more games.

My eyes squeezed tighter shut as I concentrated, focusing my thoughts as best I could. I could feel Loki gasping as I showed him everything; showed him _exactly _what he had done, showed him _my _view on the situation…

I showed him the pain he caused…

And I made him _feel it._

Immediately, Loki started screaming. I could hear him doing so in my head, could sense his thoughts tumbling about, as crazy and chaotic as my own. I made him feel _everything, _starting from the very beginning.

All of those times with April, so happy and carefree… now sucked away forever, never to be repeated…

My fury at him for what he had done to April, for what he had done to my father…

My agony at losing them both…

My horror as I thought about losing the Avengers, thought about destroying them; and New York _with _them…

And above all, above _everything _thing else… I made him feel my desperate rage at him: when he could have been so _great_, choosing instead this life of blood… while I fought so hard to remain the way I was…

How could he just _give up_ like that?

Loki kept screaming, started thrashing; I could _feel _him, like another extension of myself. I could feel him stumbling backwards, clawing at his chest, unable to breathe. I could feel the ache in his bones as he dropped to the ground, on his hands and knees, gasping for air. He'd been in pain before, knowing what he'd done, but there was a difference between knowing that you'd hurt someone and knowing _exactly _how it felt to that person. He battled back the pain; his pain and mine, all tumbling over one another in his head. It hurt me to hurt him, too; but at the moment, my anger was enough that I didn't _care. _

_How do I stop it?_ I roared. Despite how my agony was still very much there, sharing it with someone else seemed to… lighten it a little. Just enough so that I could _think _again. _The nanobots, how do I stop them?_ I demanded again.

Loki didn't respond. He was on fire, a hole burning where his heart should be, singing through him, filtering ash in his blood.

_You helped make the damn things, now tell me how I can use them! _I screamed at him. Bruce was seconds away from exploding into the Hulk, his back pressed flat against the wall, pushing ineffectually against the still-expanding bubble.

Loki did not have the words to explain what I needed to do; there was no time to effectually articulate what had to be done. Instead, his consciousness pressed against mine. Our minds all but merged; for the first time since the mental battle with Odin, the two of us agreed on something that had to be done.

Even if he wasn't entirely agreeing of his own free will.

But with this accord came a mental strength that neither of us had ever been able to achieve alone. I allowed Loki's thoughts and mine to work together, to strive for the same goal…

Our emotions, clouded though they were, clarified themselves in my heart. They sharpened into white-hot rage; a powerful ire that was all at once dangerous and bloody and black, biting and painful and yet perfect in its own terrible way. This wrath was central to _me_, a white-hot pinpoint directly behind my heartbeat, forced under control by our mental accord. And though Loki was the one helping me to force this fury into being, to fixate it as the one and only emotion in my heart, there was _none _of his rage inside of it. None of _his _rage polluted it.

It was _mine. _It was all _mine. _

With this new fury that was somehow so familiar as to be ancient, I felt the nanos start to respond; the magic half of them sensing my emotions and forcing the technology half to react to it. Loki helped me to rid myself of the pain; for just a moment, it was completely gone, vanished and vanquished, stuffed away tightly inside of myself, to be looked at later, when I had time to grieve. Loki helped; the two of us working together. As we were supposed to; as this link was _meant _for. It was a type of magic that was _never _meant to be used as a weapon; we were _supposed _to work together.

But, between us, that could only last so long. As the nanos fell into line, obeying the ebb and flow of my anger, the force field shrank; it grew smaller and smaller, wrapping itself around me, fitting itself to my form as opposed to flaring out like a bubble. It cloaked itself around me, less than an inch away from my skin, the gap in the shielding repositioning itself near my mouth so that I could still breathe. I closed my eyes, allowing this powerful old/new rage to keep flowing through me, keeping the tears and the pain at bay.

I wiped my face with my shirt sleeve, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a slow, even sigh. Bruce was staring at me, eyes wide as I pulled myself together. The other Avengers- save Natasha, who was still missing- walked tentatively into the room. Everything around me had been decimated, broken down into rubble and ruin.

Loki and I separated again; not entirely, as I could still feel his thoughts in my mind, with no more walls between us, but we no longer shared a purpose, a goal. Now he was seething; enraged that I, a mortal, had bested him… but still feeling the pain that I'd been forced to do so in the first place. His emotions held no reason or sense or logic; they were just… chaotic.

Mine, however, were crystal clear.

And the anger he was feeling? It was _nothing _compared to mine.

I looked up at Tony. With no explanation, without even a single word to clarify what had just happened, I announced to him-to all of them- in a clear tone, "I know where Loki is."

* * *

**A/N: Cliffie, Part Two! **

**Ugh, I didn't mean to end this chapter like this. I promise you, I didn't. But I had to get it updated, and there was way too much to do… Anyway, the next chapter will probably be very short, sorry about that; it was supposed to be part of **_**this **_**chapter, but it was too long and it was taking forever to write, so… bananas.**

**I hate myself for what I just did to April… D: **


	17. Let It Bleed

**A/N: Ok! So, seeing as this chapter is really kinda short, I decided to update early! Yay! **

The Norse god of Mischief was not far.

He was in a warehouse, near the docks; an empty place, desolate and alone, where all of his pain and screaming could have gone unheard. As soon as we made sure that Natasha was all right- unconscious, but alive- we headed towards this warehouse together; every last one of the Avengers, including Banner and myself.

Loki did not attempt to escape; in fact, he waited almost patiently for us to arrive. Where could he run to? I was in his head. I knew _everything. _

Besides. This was a fight that had been coming for a very, very long time.

As we arrived in our vehicles and Tony and Thor dropped down from the skies, I headed towards the warehouse single-mindedly, dark purpose fueling my every footstep. My rage was still a powerful weapon, locked close to my heart, keeping the nanobots in line.

The Avengers followed alongside me, just slightly behind. But that was not what I wanted. So, as we arrived at the door, I threw my hands out to my sides, and the nanos complied with the gesture. They manipulated the force field's shape, sending it flaring outwards, into a flatter version of the bubble; almost a wall. A wall that first encased me, then stood between me and the Avengers, keeping them away from the door. Some of them stopped in time, but most of them ran right into it, backing away quickly as they realized-too late-that it was there.

"Natalie?"

"What's going on?"

"What are you doing, Nat?"

Their questions blurred into one another, their voices slurring. I didn't particularly care to distinguish between them. I looked at them over my shoulder. "You're not coming with me."

Clint's hand tightened around his bow, and Tony stepped forwards, ready to protest.

"Why not?" Asked Steve, looking a touch worried.

I turned back to the warehouse, pulling my hands back to my sides. The force field snapped back into place around me, cloaking me like a second skin. "Because this is _my _fight."

"That's ridi-" Tony started, stepping forwards again, but Thor's hand-the one that held his hammer- stretched out in front of him, stopping him. Stark's armor made a slight _clink_ing noise as Mjolnir tapped against it. The Iron Man turned to the Asgardian, and the latter shook his head.

"She speaks truly," he said in a firm tone. "This is her battle. Her foe to face."

It must have been hard for him to admit that; given the fact that Loki was his brother and all. I gave him a single tight-but-appreciative nod and glanced to Steve and Clint. The Hawk had already stood down, slinging his bow back over his shoulder, his battle stance relaxing. Steve, on the other hand, looked uncomfortable. We were all a bit too used to the idea that I was only human; that I needed to be protected.

But, due to vengeance that still surged through me, I knew this was no longer the case. Even though I'd gotten angry before while I had these nanos, my control had always been marred by my pain; now, with a tight lid on that pain… nothing stopped my abilities from obeying me.

It took Steve a moment, but he finally backed down. "We'll be right here if you need us, Natalie."

Clint, seeing the look in my eye, gave a wry smirk. "She won't." He leaned against the hood of one of the cars, folding his arms over his chest. Sitting back to watch the fireworks.

I turned away from them all, looking to the warehouse in front of me. I could still feel Loki, waiting inside, waiting for me.

I pushed open the door. The hinges, painted with rust, squeaked quietly as I stepped inside. Once I'd entered, the door slammed shut behind me with unnecessary force. That may have been my fault. It might have been the wind. But it could've been April's ghost for all I cared.

The inside of the warehouse wasn't dark, but it wasn't particularly _light, _either. Loki stood at the far end of the building, far away from me. There was absolutely nothing inside; the entire place was empty, blank. Devoid of character and life. The only thing that stood out in the whole place was Loki, his green and gold garb the only color in the otherwise dull room.

I locked the door behind me.

_ Click. _

Loki smiled a little at me. There were no physical injuries on him, not anymore, but anyone with eyes could see that this man was hurt. His eyes were ringed with dark circles, his skin very pale. _My _pain lingered in the green pools that were those beautiful eyes… and yet he still stood in his battle armor, helmet on his head, his spear in hand.

When he spoke, it was very soft; but it still had that arrogant twinge to it. "The final showdown." He chuckled once, shaking his head back and forth. "You have always had a flare for the dramatic."

I lifted an eyebrow. "You're the one with the costume."

He chuckled again, gesturing with one long, thin hand to his outfit. Though his tone remained light, I could see his hand shaking. Fingers trembling. "I have been wearing clothing such as this my entire life." He reminded me.

The other eyebrow joined the first. "That's not the costume I was talking about_._"

He blinked at the image of his Jotun self that I pulled up in my head, then just smiled wryly, shaking his head again. "Must we go through this charade, Miss Frost? You are not here to talk with me, to '_reason'_ with me." The smile drifted across his lips again. "We both know that you are here to end this." He lifted the spear off of the ground, pointing it directly at my heart. His voice turned colder as he finished, "So _end _it."

Immediately, I dropped into a defensive stance. His eyes locked on mine. The two of us did nothing for a long moment, staring deep into each other's souls… but then Loki laughed again.

"It has been interesting, Natalie, watching you grow up. Seeing you become just like me." His eyes glinted. "Only a murderer in the end."

He was trying to goad me. Trying to make me angrier. It didn't work; I didn't need to get any angrier. But it fascinated me; even now… even after all of this… he was still trying to fight the impossible. Picking battles with those who were stronger than him. Trying to die.

And right now… I was only too happy to oblige.

I struck first; or I tried. I ran towards him, a twisted, wretched yell of a sound bursting from within me, and a blast of blue energy exploded from the tip of his spear. This energy slammed into me, rippling across the shielding that had been spread across my skin. Though the energy did nothing, the pure force of the blow sent me back a step; but then I was running again, charging across the room…

As we met, his spear flung down to strike my head; I brought my arm up to intercept it, the force of the blow nullified by the shield. I struck out at his stomach; he blocked in turn, but it was like hitting a wall. Or having a wall hit you. He yanked his hand back, obviously in pain, but he hid it well and kept fighting.

The two of us immediately fell into the fighting steps; no longer thinking, no longer taunting each other… just locked in this eternal dance, locked in the cold lethality of every movement. I threw a blow, he blocked. He lunged, I skipped out of the way. I was in no way the skilled fighter that he was, as he had been fighting for his whole life and I had only started months ago… but I knew his every move, I knew his style; it was all in my head, his thoughts in mine. I could sense his blow before it would strike, could tell where he would skip aside to, where he would dodge to avoid my most recent blow. I wasn't always fast enough to act on this knowledge, but it did lend a certain edge. Though it was an edge he also had on me.

But even so… His strikes, his blows… they meant nothing to me. Even with his weapon, my shield could block him at every turn. No matter where his strikes fell, they never touched me. My one weakness-the gap that now resided at the lower portion of my face, was closed off to him, blocked at every turn. Any time one of his blows went to strike there, I would anticipate it and stop him. It is easy to protect your Achilles Heel when you only have one.

And almost every one of my blows hit home; and when they did not, the strikes were intensely painful despite his blocks. I could _feel _them; could feel his pain. The two of us were not meant to be fighting each other; we were meant to be fighting other enemies, allying ourselves against the world. But, in the end… that was what we could never be.

I took a step back. He advanced. I blocked one blow and he threw another, the spear driving itself towards my gut. I gripped the hand that held the spear and pulled it towards me, angling my body to the side so that the spear went past me… my other hand curled into a fist as I threw it directly at his face; he managed to dodge it, but barely. In seconds, he was on the attack again. But that didn't matter. So was I.

My rage got hotter and hotter as the battle went on; our strikes came faster and faster, his blows harder to evade, my fists harder to skip away from… I twirled away from a blow, ending up behind him, and threw my foot into his back; he stumbled forwards but did not fall, whirling around to face me, energy exploding from the spear's tip… The energy sent me back two steps this time, but I did not fall. It gave him enough time to stand again, though, and then we were facing each other. He smiled at me again, the two of us only a few feet away from each other and now gauging each other, looking for weaknesses and vantage points…

"You always were the most stubborn little mortal," he told me, wiping his lip. He was surprised to see the blood on his finger. I was not. But still he kept chuckling quietly. "Why won't you just _die_ already, Miss Frost? Rid your world of one more monster?" he gave me the most painful, agonizing grin, one that not only destroyed me, but sliced through him as well. "I'm sure it's what your _father _would want." Another half-chuckle. "And if only _April _could only see you now, see you for what you really are… Such a pity, for a kind, gentle creature such as her, to have wasted her life over something so vile and wretched as _you…_"

The sound that came out of me as I launched myself towards him again was not human. He kept smiling as my blows rained down, bringing his spear up to intercept them. I was moving faster than ever, my blood singing in my veins… Despite the ache in my every muscle and bone, despite the raw devastation that had occurred to my nerves, my fury kept me going, kept me standing...

The two of us interlocked in battle again. His spear came down, raining down to crack over my head again, and my hand whipped up, catching it. I yanked it violently out of his hands, throwing it to the side, and he backed away quickly. I advanced, throwing a punch to his gut; he blocked, but another soon followed… and another, and another, again and again. Loki kept stepping back, trying to get away from me, trying to escape… but I was cornering him, and now my heart was roaring in my ears again. I saw nothing but crimson, tasting metal. I wanted _blood. _I wanted blood and I would settle for _nothing _less.

The nanos rolled with my renewed fury, responding by making my reach longer, sending the shield rippling towards Loki, about a foot away from my actual hand. I struck, again and again and _again._ Loki stumbled back, almost falling; I seized that chance, throwing out both palms; the shield extended away from me, slamming into his chest…

He fell backwards, landing on the ground.

My father hated me.

I had almost destroyed the Avengers.

April was _dead._

And it was all _his _fault.

Another inhuman scream ripped through me; in a lightning flash, a move so quick that it was unbelievable, the force field suddenly snapped back into its original spherical shape; and it _grew. _It grew _quickly, _exploding outwards, slamming into Loki but also reaching out to the walls around me, breaking through them, decimating the entire warehouse in seconds. Wood, concrete, and steel beams crumbled, the whole place falling apart around me, the walls disintegrating, collapsing to the ground so that I could see the Avengers, still standing 'outside', now ducking away to hide from the onslaught of fresh rubble that I had sent into the air.

Loki cringed beneath the falling splinters of wood, but the bubble, as massive as it was and still hovering over him, protected him from the worst of the damage. I pulled it back to myself, once again molding itself to my shape, an inch away from my skin.

"_Enough,"_ I growled exhaustedly, taking one final step towards him.

I picked him up by the shirt collar; Loki raised his arms to defend himself, but before he could block me, my fist slammed right into his smarmy face. My other hand let go of him at that exact moment, so that the force of my blow sent him back on the ground.

I picked him up again, lifting him in the air with both hands. That was definitely going to leave a mark; but he was still raising his hands, still trying to fight… I pulled his face right up next to mine, spittle flying as I hissed out the words, "This is for my _father_."

Fist met face again; and again he was sent tumbling to the ground. The air was still choked with dust and wood, but the Avengers were standing up again, coming out from their respective shelters, watching in amazement. Clint just leaned back on the car again, looking as though he really wished he had some popcorn to go along with the show. The Captain looked horrified. Tony's face was hidden by his armor, but I imagined he didn't look much different from Steve. As Loki's eyes traveled to Thor, the latter looked… grim. But he was determined, keeping his feet rooted to the spot.

I was barely paying attention to them. My eyes were locked on the Trickster. Once more, I yanked Loki back off the ground, pulling his face up to mine again. "This is for all the people you _murdered_."

_Slam. _Another blow to the face. Loki fell back, collapsing on the ground. This time, he tried to pull _himself_ up before _I_ could get to him.

_Tried _to.

"This is for _Earth._"

My hand slammed directly into his nose; blood started to dribble down his face. This time, I _let _him pull _himself_ upright, swaying on his feet. Everything in me was burning up, my heart vanishing into smoke. He tried to stumble forwards, to fight, but I grabbed his collar and dragged him towards me.

"This is for _Asgard!_" I screamed, throwing this blow to his stomach. He bent over double, clutching it tightly, gasping for air. "For _Jotunheim!" _I brought my knee to his forehead. He stumbled backwards, clutching his face. He almost kept his footing. _Almost. _

As I advanced on him, I caught sight of the Avengers again. Just in the corner of my eye. But I could still see it; horror was in every face now. Bruce, Tony- whose face plate had lifted to view the carnage- Steve, Thor… Clint, however, had a grudging respect in his eyes. And a camera phone in his hands.

Thor's resolve seemed to be wavering. This was his brother, after all. If I kept on like this… I could kill him.

But I didn't _care._

I didn't care about _anything._

I hauled Loki back up off the ground, both hands gripping his shirt tightly as I spat the words into his face. "And this one's just for _fun._"

I slammed my forehead into his; again, to him, it was like being hit by a wall. I could feel his pain. It registered, somewhere in my head. But the fury overwhelmed that, burned it away like it burned everything, turned the pain into fire. I was fire, and I was consuming everything in my path, burning down the world, bleeding pure destruction.

I heaved him off of the ground one final time, shifting aside the rubble that I had created. I held his collar tighter than ever, my eyes ablaze. I didn't know what I was going to do. I honestly had no idea what I was capable of.

My very spine was trembling, sending tremors throughout my entire system. I held him tightly, with shaking hands, and he looked back at me. There were cuts and fresh bruises all over his face, and his clothes were tattered and torn from falling in all of this rubble…I could hear his breathing, harsh, ragged, tortured gasps… but his emerald eyes locked on mine, perfectly clear. He was waiting, too. He wanted to see what I would do. Wanted to see his project come to its completion.

I could still taste blood as I snarled, "And _this _one…" My voice trembled. I shook so violently that even he trembled in my grasp. "_This _one is for _April,_ you scum-sucking son of a _bitch._"

His eyes closed. Waiting for the end. But as much as I wanted to pull my hand back for the final blow, as much as I wanted to just start kicking and never stop, as much as I wanted to wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze until he turned purple…

April wasn't a monster. And she wouldn't want me doing monstrous things under the guise of honoring her death.

I pulled him closer for a split second, then flung him back to the earth. He fell limply into the rubble. Wood, dust and dirt scattered about as his body pushed it aside. As he landed, he did not try and get up again; merely laid there in the ruin, half-dead, unmoving, all but lifeless.

"Because she…" my voice quivered. I wasn't in pain, not anymore, not yet, but still my throat clogged, almost as though I was. "She was so much _better _than _you_."

For perhaps the first time since I had met him, he had no reply.

As our battle ended, my anger did not wane; but I could feel his pain a little clearer now, a little sharper. Every ache and every injury… I had caused it. I had hurt him.

We weren't supposed to _be _this.

But at the moment, I tucked these thoughts away in the back of my mind. I turned away from Loki, spitting onto the ground.

"All yours, boys," I announced to the Avengers, my voice a harsh croak from all of the screaming I'd done, from all the dust in the air. I walked past them and didn't turn back; even as I heard them restraining Loki, even as I felt his defeat wash through me, bitter and black, I didn't turn. I just kept walking. Even as the shield around me flickered out of existence at last, vanishing entirely… I didn't turn back, didn't turn away. I just kept going.

Clint came up next to me after a few moments; which was odd, for him. Watching Loki suffer seemed to be a bit of a hobby for him; he normally wouldn't miss a chance like this. Loki had done some serious shit to him, after all; but then, he'd done it to all of us.

"Where are you going?" He asked, easily falling into step beside me, matching my strides.

"Home," I answered.

"And where's that?" He asked, a bit too politely. "The Tower took a pretty massive beating, if I recall."

I swallowed thickly. I hadn't even realized that I'd considered the Tower my 'home' until that moment. I looked to Barton, who looked back. I froze, unsure of exactly where I was going anymore. Unsure of what to _do _anymore.

For the past hour-or-so, which really felt like an eternity and a half, my one and only goal had been Loki's destruction. And now I had won. Now the battle was over. And I had no idea what to do or what to feel or even what I was. What use is a monster in a time of peace?

Clint seemed to recognize this. Maybe he'd been here before. He smiled a little at me, sadly. "Come on," he said carefully, gently. "I think you've earned a vacation."

* * *

Clint told my mother everything. There was no point in hiding it anymore. As I slipped quietly into my old room, I heard their mutters carry through the door. My dog -Jekyll- the stupid puppy that I'd gotten from the pound a few years back, scrambled up next to me, wagging his tail so hard that his entire butt moved with it. As I slumped onto my bed, he climbed up onto it, curling up at the foot of the bed contentedly. A big dog of unknown breed, he was large and fluffy and liked to pretend he was one of those Chihuahuas that you could carry in your purse from time to time.

I stayed sitting up just long enough to scratch him behind the ears before I fell back onto the pillows.

It felt so normal. Staring up at the normal ceiling, with my normal, adorably dumb dog, and my normal pictures and books surrounding me. My normal old stuffed animals that I'd kept from when I was a kid. My normal diary, its tattered pages stuffed beneath the mattress where it belonged.

Yeah. So normal. My normal clean sheets, getting stained with the dirt that coated me from the day's combat. Jekyll, my normal dog, somehow not caring about the smell of blood that lingered on me. My normal mother, talking downstairs with my friend who was also a master assassin.

My normal pictures, mostly of me and April, having fun and laughing together…

Loki's influence. My fury. It had all dimmed on the journey here. And now, as I lay staring at my ceiling… the pain returned.

It was a slow pain, at first. But, then it truly struck, with an abrupt swiftness unparalleled. It ripped me in two, and then I was gasping, writhing, trying to hold my heart in my chest as it battered fiercely at my ribcage, trying to escape me, trying to escape this crippling, bitter agony…

I don't know when I made the decision to leave, or why I snuck out of the house as opposed to just talking to Clint and my mother. I don't know where I was going as I climbed out the back window, or how long it took me to get there. I don't know why no one stopped me in the street, looking as battered and bruised and desperate as I was. I only know where I ended up. I only know where the tears finally fell. I only know where the Avengers found me, two hours later.

I was back in Stark Tower, my ruined home, on the top floor, just below the roof. I was on my knees on the tile floor, rocking back and forth slowly as I sobbed. I was cradling April's body in my arms, my face buried in her black hair. I was holding her close and crying, crying like the world had come to an end.

And I was very aware of one thing: that her blood was getting all over my hands.


	18. Shrink-Wrapped

It had been a week since April's death.

During that week, I'd been hanging out in my house, ignoring Loki entirely. I figured that he'd separate from me soon enough. After all, I'd rendered him helpless for a moment there; and he would _not _want that repeated. Sooner or later, that link would dissipate. But for now, I kept him out. Anything he said, I ignored. Any thoughts that were not my own were pushed aside. After a while, he stopped trying.

I didn't visit my father in the hospital. My brain was too scrambled to even consider it. I didn't know if he still viewed me as a monster. I would find out eventually. For now… well, for now, there was nothing that I could do for him.

I wouldn't say that I handled April's death well, but perhaps I handled it better than I had handled Loki's deception. Better than I handled finding out that my entire life was a lie.

At least, that's how the casual observer would see it. Because, this time, I didn't let myself stop moving, didn't let myself decompensate. This time, I kept myself busy.

Though I stayed well removed from the Avengers for a few days, I did do housework. I forced myself to read, to draw. To study the old psych books. If I caught myself crying, I would let myself cry it out. But then I would get back on my feet and working again. I didn't stop moving. I _couldn't _stop moving.

My mother was partially in shock, learning about everything I had been through in the past few months. Learning that the reason her husband left her was because of a Norse god with a mean streak didn't exactly do wonders for her mental health, either. But I helped her; I forced myself to figure things out from _her _perspective, as opposed to mine. Worked with _her _problems. Playing psychiatrist. It helped. A little.

She, too, grieved for April… she'd always been such a close family friend… I made sure that I was the one who spoke to April's mother about the issue, that _I _was the one to repeat her last words. Her mother told me that she'd tried to stop Loki when he'd arrived; that he'd blown her off as easily as one would a fly, that she'd tried so hard to save her daughter and had been unsuccessful… I tried to reassure her that Loki would do that to anyone in his path, that there was nothing she could have done, but I knew she was not convinced. There was a lot of crying. A lot of hugging. A lot of shared misery.

But now I sat at my desk, scanning my emails. I'd been getting two or three letters from family members, people who remembered April from the family reunions, trying to console me and giving their condolences. Amid these sometimes-heartfelt-sometimes-just-polite letters were the usual array of spam and junk mail; but there was one that interested me. Something sent to me via Barton's uber-secure, hacker-proof email. An email that absolutely refused to be deleted; and believe me, I tried.

It read as follows:

_To: Ms. Natalie Frost._

_From: Director Fury, S.H.I.E.L.D._

_Subject: Meeting_

_Ms. Frost,_

_Despite the classified technology in your blood, be assured that we at S.H.I.E.L.D. wish you no harm. We have been aware of your situation for quite some time now; and have been kept apprised by our agents, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanov._

Those dirty little rats, I thought to myself, incredulous. I kept reading.

_Given the current state of both the Avengers and yourself, it has been decided that the two of us should meet immediately. We have much to discuss; particularly concerning your future. _

_I understand that you believe us to be your enemy. You could not be more wrong. We want to help you, Natalie._

Using my first name. My bullshit-o-meter went off the charts. But I read on. If Clint and Natasha trusted this man enough to tell him about me, then I'd have to trust them enough to at least meet with the guy.

_I await your reply. _

_Nick Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D._

I snorted. He _was _being polite, now, wasn't he? All right. All right, _fine_.We would meet. I tapped out a quick reply; time and date. Noon, two days from now. I also placed the meeting in the nearest Café, a nice little _public _place where he couldn't shoot me and be done with it. Not like he could, anyway.

Someone had already tried, after all.

I sent the message and closed my laptop. Of course, it was the one that Tony had given me. I sighed deeply. Everything reminded me of my double life these days; everything that didn't remind me of April, that is.

The darkness was starting to press in again. I hadn't retrieved my gun and knife from Stark Tower (which was currently being rebuilt), afraid of what I might do if I had them that close to me. Afraid I might just snap again, like I'd come so close to doing the last time.

The next day, I got a response; Fury agreed to the meeting time, adding that he looked forward to seeing me at last. With difficulty, I refrained from replying: _bite me._

It was also on that day that I got an unexpected visitor; a _very _unexpected visitor. After all, it's not every day that an Asgardian rings your doorbell.

Thankfully for my mother's sanity, I hadn't been getting _that _many strange guests since she'd discovered the truth. But, despite what a shock it must have been for her to open the door and discover a big, buff, macho dude in medieval armor and a war hammer, she didn't even blink. Instead, she just turned back, calling, "Natalie! It's for you!"

I looked up from where I was washing the dishes. I wiped suds off of my hands, letting them drift away under the hot water, my palms red as lobsters as I dried them off on my pants. I walked up to the door-not skipping or running, not like I usually would- and plastered a smile on my face, making it as big and cheerful as I possibly could. Normalcy was the name of the game. Catching sight of the Asgardian, I slouched against the doorframe. "Oh. Hey, Thor."

He smiled back at me, a little wary. "Greetings, Lady Frost."

The second I laid eyes on him, I knew that something was wrong. There was something about the look on his face that made my gut twist. But still I pleaded silently that there was nothing, that everything was just fine… because, really, I couldn't _take _any more bad news at this point. "Is everything ok? Are the others all right at the Tower?"

"Everyone is well." Thor glanced oddly at Jekyll, who was sniffing around his feet curiously. Stupid dog. I gently tugged his collar, pulling him back, while Thor watched him bemusedly for a second. Then he looked back to me, his eyes grave.

"However…" he said slowly. Carefully. His every word was considered and planned with intense caution, immense care. "It is… my brother. He wishes to speak with you."

Immediate response: _well, he's shucks outta luck, ain't he?_

I reigned that in. Thor wouldn't be here if this wasn't important. Instead, I gave him a weighted look, questioning him without even bothering to speak out loud.

Thor swallowed. "He wishes to break your mental connection."

Was that it? I wanted to roll my eyes. I was amazed he hadn't torn our link to shreds by now, to be honest. What, did Thor really think that Loki needed my _permission _or something?

I shrugged. "Then he can break it."

"Unfortunately… he can not." Thor informed me. I lifted an inquisitive eyebrow. He went on, "Since its creation, this connection between you and Loki has… grown. Changed. Loki is no longer able to remove it; not without your assistance."

I froze. "Woah, woah, woah, _wait._" I held up my hands. "Back it up. You're saying that_ he_ needs _my _help?"

"Aye."

"_Why? _He got the link _in_ my head, didn't he? Why can't he get it out?"

Thor shook his head slowly. "This magic has adapted to both of your minds. The two of you must agree to remove the link together; one can no longer be rid of it if the other does not concur."

I snorted. "Ok. So I'll help him remove it from here. Problem solved." Not like I didn't want him out, anyway. Not like I didn't want to just _throw _him out, kicking and screaming, burn him out of my thoughts. But I did _not _want to see his face again.

Thor's eyes went to his feet, looking… awkward. "I'm afraid… I'm afraid that is not possible. He is refusing to remove the connection until you speak with him."

Un-freaking- _believable. _

My eyes narrowed dangerously, but when I saw Thor flinch, my anger evaporated. I sighed heavily, shaking my head out. Of course he was. I should have seen this coming; should have questioned why he didn't remove the link sooner.

"All right." I said after a moment, then threw up my hands, giving up. "All right, fine. Let's get this over with." I glanced down at myself. Unlike usual, I wasn't wearing PJs today. No excuses. No stalling. I puffed out another sigh. "Asgard?" I clarified.

He nodded.

I nodded slowly in response and turned around, walking back inside. "Right. Let me just… tell my mom."

He clasped his hands behind his back, clearly content to wait by the door, but I beckoned him inside anyway. "Come on in, have a seat. This might take a while."

He did as asked; I lead him to the living room. It was odd, seeing him sitting there, so incongruent among my furniture with his simple metal armor and red cape and… well, _you _try having Thor in _your _living room and see what _you _think.

In the other room, my mother was waiting patiently for an explanation for this strange guest; one I was not really willing to give. "I have some… stuff to do, with the Avengers."

She looked me up and down, scrutinizing me. "Are you sure you're up for that?" She asked me. As though I wasn't doubting myself enough already. Still, I forced myself to nod.

"I'll be ok," I lied. Despite the fact that my mother now knew everything, the lying seemed to be getting worse, not better. At least I was good at it. "This… ah… _link _that I have with Loki… I'm going to meet with him so that we can remove it."

Immediately, she stiffened. Clint had told her everything about Loki. And I do mean _everything. _Stupid spy. "M-Meet with him?" She hid her stammer well, but not well enough. Getting better at lying meant that you were better at figuring out when other people were lying, too. "Are you sure that its… safe?"

"I beat his face in once before, mom. I can and will _gladly_ do it again."

She frowned. "Natalie…" she said, worry lacing my name as she reached out to place a hand on my shoulder, catching my gaze. I let her hand fall on me, let it run down my arm for a moment, a comforting gesture… but then I shrugged her off gently.

"I'll be fine." I lied again. "But we have to do this soon; otherwise the link could become permanent." I gathered both of her hands together and collected them in mine, slowly moving them back to her. "Ok?"

She bit her lip, clearly unwilling to agree. But after a moment, she nodded. "All right. Just… be careful."

I gave her a smile; it was amazing, how hard it was to do that, even if it was fake. "Of course. And Thor will be nearby, I'm sure. I'll be fine." I gave her a quick hug, then broke off and retrieved my purse. "Oh," I remembered, "There's just one more thing…" I hesitated, then, "I'm meeting him in his cell."

"I would hope so."

"On Asgard."

She blanched, but turned away quickly, busying herself with her work so that she wouldn't have to think about it too much. "All right," she answered, her voice a little strained. Despite everything, I smiled a little to myself and ducked out of the room, back to where Thor was waiting.

"Come on," I said, pulling my phone out of my purse and sticking it in my pocket, so that I could leave the purse behind. "Let's go."

* * *

Travel via the Tesseract was no where near as uncomfortable this time around; Loki was no longer draining the excess energy from me. As I stepped away from the glowing blue cube, I felt the nanos respond to its energy, felt them buzzing a little faster, making me feel stronger, healthier. It was an odd contrast to the aching fuzziness in my head.

Once Thor had returned the Tesseract to the place where it belonged, he led me to Loki's prison in silence. As though I didn't know _exactly _where it was.

I traveled through the golden halls, feeling so much weaker than the last time I had done so. It was strange: Though I was no longer intimidated by these ornate, beautiful walls, the oppression in the air around them was intense. I wasn't scared, but I could barely breathe.

We walked up to the doors together. Apparently, I wasn't seeing Odin this time. Whatever, he had better things to do.

My heart ached at that thought. _What better things? This is his __**son.**_

The instant this occurred to me, I shook it off. This was the man who had killed April. There was a large part of me that still cared about Loki, still wished he could be good… but there was an even larger part of me that hated him. That had given up on him entirely.

Thor opened the door for me; and, as I took a step inside, he took a step backwards, away from the darkened cell. I turned so that I could lift an eyebrow at him. "You're not coming?"

The Norse god of Thunder shook his head. "He insisted that he speak with you alone."

Interesting. My eyes narrowed just slightly, my fingers curling into loose fists. But I nodded, stepping inside and allowing him to close the door behind me. I was plunged into darkness; but I walked through it without hesitation, without pause, swift strides that took me towards the man I hated. My footsteps echoed all around me, a signal in the blackness, letting me know that I was still here, still alive. Because I was no longer so certain of that fact.

I stepped towards where I knew the light would be. When I finally arrived beside it, a pale grey beacon amidst the thousands of interweaving shadows, I saw _him_.

He looked like hell. His entire face was covered in bruises and scabs, little cuts marking his features. The bruises were scattered across his throat and hands, too; purple-black stains on pallid skin. And that was just what I could see. But not even this was so bad as the subtle slump in his shoulders. He was partially hunched over, truly defeated for the first time since I'd met him.

He didn't even smile at me.

"Greetings, Natalie Frost."

I folded my arms over my chest, slouching a little to the side. "What do you want?" I demanded immediately. No mincing words. No more trying to help. I felt a twinge of pain inside Loki that he hastily covered up, and shame washed through me for the briefest of seconds. Neither of us realized how much we both counted on my ability to forgive him for any wrong. But I buried the shame, tucked it away in the darkest corners of my ever-blackening heart, where it would never see the light of day again. I would not feel _shame _for this. Not for _him._

For a very long time, there was silence between us. Then, I repeated, "Well?" I shifted my weight to my other foot. "What do you _want, _Loki?"

He glanced downwards. He looked almost… humbled. A severe beat down has been known to do that to some people.

_Some _people. Not him. Something was eating away at him, something that he wanted to say… I waited until he pulled himself together, waited until he swallowed and looked up at me, a new determination in his green eyes.

He opened his mouth and said four words that I'd never expected to come from his lips. Four words so far from the conversation, so far from my mind, that they had not even been considered: "I can cure you."

My eyebrows shot up, disappearing beneath my hair, which hung a bit messily around my head. "You can _what _now?"

"Cure you," he repeated. "I can remove the nanobots from your blood."

For the briefest of seconds, my shock was enough to make my tough attitude disappear, to make my eyebrows rise and my eyes go round. But then they narrowed back into suspicious slits. I didn't even have to ask him to elaborate; he did so anyway.

"You were told that the energy they create has become addictive; that you can no longer survive without it." He reminded me. "This is what _science _has told you. However,_ magic _can remove this energy from your blood safely." He held out a hand, palm up. I felt the nanos stir inside me, and I shifted a little, uncomfortably. I doubted that he could turn them off _right now; _otherwise he would have done so while I was beating the crap out of him. He would have eliminated by abilities _then, _if that was possible. But something was stopping him. Maybe he could only remove them with my help. Or maybe Stark's help; they _were _his tech, after all. I didn't know. And, after a moment, I didn't care.

Loki continued, "I can render them inert. You will lose your abilities. You can go home; back to your normal life."

The last line raised questions; my eyes narrowed again, my brain trying frantically to work, latching onto this problem, keeping me from thinking about everything that had happened. Focusing solely on the now. If this was a threat, he wouldn't have added the bit about my home, about normalcy. Besides that, he had called it a 'cure'; he wasn't trying to tell me that he could strip me of the powers that made me special. He was trying to convince me to abandon them, in favor of the life I'd left behind.

"Why?" I demanded; I didn't clarify all of the hundreds of questions that swarmed behind that one. He knew them all; he could read my mind, after all. But when I tried to read his… blocked. He was keeping himself pretty well removed. For now. I didn't push against his mental walls; I didn't have the strength to fight him just then.

He didn't answer me; not directly. Instead, he went on. "I have also removed my influences from your father's thoughts. Cameron's mind has been restored to clarity." He was listing facts. Trying to get the words out. As though if he hesitated for even a second, he would choke. There was no arrogant smile, no hints of laughter…

This was… _genuine. _

"It may take him a few days to heal completely; but following this, he will no longer believe that you are a monster. He will see you as you are."

I swallowed dryly. It was… it was too much to hope for. But I knew that he wasn't lying; he may have been blocking his reasons for doing these things, but I could still tell that he was not lying to me. He hadn't been able to lie to me directly in a very long time; his lies had to be spoken in roundabout ways, slipped in through the loopholes. But right now… the Trickster's words were ringing with truth.

My father…

Seeing me as I was?

I couldn't comprehend it. Couldn't understand it. I tried to push the thoughts aside; I'd have to deal with it later. Loki's green gaze flickered to the ground, where his shadow stretched off into the oblivion of the darkness beyond our little place of light.

"When our connection is removed…" He didn't look at me as he concluded, "My influences will be removed completely from your life. It will be as if I no longer exist."

Shock lanced through me, and I looked down at the ground as I clamped down tightly on the emotion. It wasn't just what he'd said, though that certainly contributed to it… but it was the look in his eye as he spoke that really sealed the deal. It couldn't have been… it _couldn't _have been…

And yet, somehow, it all made sense.

_Regret. Remorse. _These things stormed in the back of Loki's gaze. He couldn't look at me straight, couldn't meet my eyes no matter how he tried.

In the old days, seeing that on his face would've made my heart do a tap-dance. Hearing those words come out of him would've made the shrink in me completely and utterly ecstatic. There was hope for him. Even if he was only sympathetic to my pain because he had been forced to feel it for himself… There was still a sliver of hope. A chance that he could be saved.

But I felt no sense of joy, no happiness, no hope. Instead, I felt only a twinge of the same old, burning resentment. My hands clenched. My muscles stiffened, locking into place.

"Is that what this is about?" I questioned, the inquiry so soft, so quiet, that it may have even been pretending to be kind. "You think that you can just… _erase _everything that you have done? 'Forgive and Forget'?"

I stared at him, incredulous. It was so impossible. _He _was so _impossible. _

And he still could not look at me. Still could not face me.

And now it was _my _turn to smile. _My _turn to laugh. I chuckled once, a breath of a sound. A laugh just like his.

How did our roles reverse so completely? How did I become him, and he become me? Why was I the one rejecting _his_ pleas for help? How did _we_ become… _this?_

But again, I pushed these thoughts away, trapped them, encaged them beneath my smoldering anger. "You think… for even a _second… _that you can _make up _for what you _did?_" I demanded of him, half hysterical.

My hands rose to my head for a moment, my palm heels pressing against my temples as I struggled to comprehend how, exactly, I was supposed to respond to this. Slowly, shakily, they lowered again, and I spoke.

"You…You can't just… wave a magic wand and _fix _everything," There was an acid sting in every word I bit out, no matter how they trembled. "You can… _cure _me. You can piece my father's mind back together. But neither _you, _nor any of your _magic, _can bring April back from the _dead, __**Trickster**_. She's _gone. _She's gone _forever._" I took a step towards him, barely conscious of the movement."And it is, and always _will _be, _your fault." _

Loki winced mildly at my words, showing just the barest hint of his inner twisted chaos. He still didn't take his eyes off of his shadow, watching it closely, as though it would flee from him if he dared turn his gaze for a second.

I advanced another step towards him. "That emotion? The one that you're feeling right now? It's called _guilt._ It's a natural consequence when you do something _wrong."_

Somehow, some way, my expression softened just the slightest touch as I realized how glassy his eyes were. I didn't look away from him, but I found myself wanting to. I found myself wanting to pity him. Wanting to be me again; me without the anger, me without the hate.

My voice lowered. "And even if I forgave you- and I'm not sure I could if I wanted to- it would not go away. You're going to live with that for the rest of your life, Loki. You can try and make amends, you can try and ease it, try and repair the damage… but it will stay with you forever." I closed my eyes. "It always does."

When I opened my eyes again, I realized that he had finally turned to look at me. His own eyes were wide, and there was a bit too much moisture in them… But his features remained blank and hollow, entirely dead.

Because he had expected this. He had expected rejection. Why wouldn't he expect it? He had been rejected his whole life.

And then I saw it.

Then I saw everything.

I saw his life, laid out in front of me as an intricate display. I saw him growing up in the shadow of big brother, always jealous, unable to live up to the standards that Thor set. I saw him discovering that he was a monster born, a monster raised by men. I saw him, determined to win back his father's love, the love he'd thought he'd lost. I saw him trying to earn the love that he'd once taken for granted, that, as a child, he'd believed to be unconditional. I saw him trying to destroy Jotunheim, saw him slipping over the edge of the Bifrost, saw him so twisted and broken as he fell…

I saw him trying to take over Earth, to prove himself a great ruler and king… trying to take from Thor everything that had been taken from him… I saw him defeated and disgraced, thrown before his father once again, but this time as a prisoner. A failure. A nothing.

I saw him, trying to destroy me, destroy the Avengers, for what they had done to him… never understanding until it was too late that maybe, just maybe, he could be doing irreparable damage to himself by hurting me through our connection… I saw him fighting this pointless fight, not realizing until it was too late that he had destroyed his only ally from the inside out, had made me hate him…

I could see the pattern so clearly. All of that pain in his life, all of that agony that he built up into rage, that he used to fuel his ambition. All of these excuses that he had, all of these justifications that he cowered behind, twisting the world in his mind so that _it _was alwaysthe one who had wronged _him. _He wouldnever take the blame on himself, instead pushing it to everything else, so that he learned to hate everything, so that he never healed…

And I saw what would happen if, right here and now, I left him like this. If I rejected him one more time. I saw the truth of Loki Laufeyson, the truth buried beneath all of the lies that had been told to him, and the lies that he had told in turn.

And the truth was that rejection had made him into what he was. Hatred had formed this twisted soul; the hatred of others, the hatred of himself.

And if I left him like this… if I gave his broken soul nothing but more hatred to feed on… then he would just do it again. And again and again and again. Over and over, this dark and twisted cycle would repeat itself.

Because Loki had been hurt so badly: and that hurt became hate. That hate became bloodlust. That bloodlust became the fire of battle. And that fire would consume everything, and became death; the death of loved ones, the death of people like April. And in others, in people like me, that death would become hurt. And that hurt would become hate…

There was no end to this pattern. It went round and round in circles, dizzying, unceasing, pointless. This wouldn't stop. It wouldn't end. Loki would continue with this meaningless battle, this desperate dream, his hatred polluting the entire world, reducing his glass-shattered soul into fine powder, blowing away in the wind. This endless cycle would continue, until one day he stood above the Earth, a King at last.

And that's when I realized: I didn't have the luxury of my own hatred. Didn't have the luxury of revenge. Because I had to make sure that this _never _happened again, that _no one _had to die in his endless conquest of his ever again. There could be no more bloodshed. There could be no more pointless hate.

I had once sworn to myself that, when it was all over, I would help Loki Laufeyson.

And now… I was the only one who _could._

I took a deep breath, letting it out in a heavy sigh. This wasn't going to be easy.

I made myself stand straighter, taller, brushing out imaginary folds on my shirt. "Keep your cure," I ordered him, my voice firm. "And keep the link." I felt something inside me turn to stone as my resolve solidified with every word. "I'm not severing our connection."

His eyes whipped up to me, horror-struck. "_What?"_ He sounded genuinely surprised, taken entirely off guard. "Natalie…" He seemed at a loss for words; a rare thing, for him. He was even calling me only by my first name. Another rarity.

"You… we _have_ to end this connection!" He gathered himself together rapidly, isolating a single argument from the thousands of thoughts that raged in his head. "If we don't…" I could feel his chest grow tight as though it were my own, could feel his sudden claustrophobia pounding in my brain. "You _know_ what will happen. If we do not break it soon…"

"The two of us will become inseparable," I filled in smoothly. "We will become dependant on each other. To remove ourselves from each other's heads would be a cruelty and a torture; like breaking off a part of our minds." I looked him dead in the eye; I could see myself in his eyes, see myself as he saw me. My face solemn. Perfectly sincere.

Standing tall as royalty.

Tall as a King.

Or Queen, in my case, but still. I folded my arms across my chest, steady and resolute. "But beyond that, we will be completely incapable of hurting each other. Which means that I will eventually have to forgive you." My eyes turned icy. "But you will be unable to do _anything _that would hurt me; and that _includes_ breaking out of here. Taking over the Earth." My nails dug into my arms where they were crossed. My voice dropped an octave. "You will never be able to kill again."

The panic in his eyes was now absolute; he wasn't even bothering to hide it anymore. He could hide nothing from me; and I could hide nothing from him. I stared back at him, cold and dead, as he actually pleaded. I was his only way out; if we did not both agree to sever the link, then it could not be broken. Not anymore.

"Please, Natalie," he whispered. The horror in his eyes… the abject _terror… _he shook his head back and forth, unable to believe it, unable to accept it as truth… _"Please,_" he all but begged. "Don't… don't _do _this."

His pain flooded through me; and knowing that I was the one causing that pain hurt me as well. But I was doing the right thing. I knew that, down in my core; I was doing what was right. I reached out towards him, placing a hand on his arm.

"I'm sorry, Loki," I said; and I was being entirely sincere, bleeding honesty. "I am… _truly _sorry for this. I _am_ sorry that I have to take away the only freedom you have left. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemies." I half-sighed. "And you pretty much define that list." I shook my head out again, steel once more taking over my tone. "But I will _not _let April's death be in vain. I'll avenge her in the only way that I know how; by making sure that this never happens again. By helping you."

Loki pulled his arm out of mine, turning away from me, as though by doing so, he could stop me from seeing the single tear that rolled out of his eye, burning with shame. But of course I could. "You would make me a prisoner in my own mind?" He asked, his voice quivering. He was visibly shaken; the most honest emotion I'd ever seen on him. "And then you would claim to be _helping _me?"

"We are both prisoners now, Loki. And sometimes that's all it takes." I turned around and started walking into the darkness. "Sometimes… you just need one person who truly understands… what being imprisoned really _means."_

I walked into the shadows, my footsteps echoing around me as I made it to the door. As I was about to push it open, I paused, hand on the door. I could feel the intricate designs carved in the gold, invisible in the blackness, pressing against my fingertips.

My eyes lowered, and I stared at the ground I could not see. "Goodbye, Loki," I whispered to him, very, very gently. There was still so much anger in my heart, so much fire in my blood. But… I knew that I would, eventually, have to forgive him. And, somehow, just accepting this impossible task… Just knowing that one day it could be done, because it would _have_ to be…

Somehow… It was easier to let go.

I pushed the door open; Loki did not reply, and I knew he never would.

Thor was standing outside, waiting patiently. As soon as I stepped into the light, he straightened a little, stepping forwards, eager for news.

"Did you succeed?" He inquired. I knew what he was really asking-if I'd gotten the link out of my head- but the words made me smile a little nonetheless.

"In a manner of speaking," I answered cryptically. Thor frowned, but before he could ask anything else, I said, "I'll explain everything later. Right now, I need to talk to your father."

* * *

My talk with Odin lasted a very long time; so long that it was past midnight when we finally finished, and he offered to let me stay at Asgard until the next morning. I explained that my mother was probably freaking out about how long I'd been gone already, so Thor took me back home. As soon as I was at the door, I apologized profusely to my mom, who was absolutely frantic but doing her best to hide it. After about fifteen minutes of reassuring her, I headed back to my room; Jekyll was already lying on my bed. I placed my head on him, using the warm, fluffy body as a pillow, staring up at the ceiling. He licked my face, welcoming me back with his usual doggy flare.

But my mind was far away from Earth, and very far away from the dog slobber that I was forced to wipe off with my sleeve. I wasn't sure if we'd even gotten anything accomplished; politics seemed to be like that sometimes. You talk and talk for hours, and in the end… nothing happens. As I sat across from the ruler of a world, I had been very aware that I was speaking for _the entirety of the human freaking race, _and that my every word reflected on my entire planet… but, at the same time, Odin had been in my head before. He knew all about how I thought, was fairly understanding of the way I viewed things.

I sighed, standing and changing into pajamas before I forgot and fell asleep in my normal clothes. I also went into the bathroom and brushed my teeth, my thoughts still in Asgard. I often wondered what Odin thought of me; this strange little mortal whose mind had been invaded by Loki, and yet who held the Trickster in somewhat high regard, a vague sense of respect still lingering despite all that he had done… a desire to help him always present…

And now, after everything that had happened, everything that Loki had done… And I _still _wanted to help him. Not just for Loki's sake, not anymore, but at the same time…

When I'd told Odin what I was willing to do, told him what I _wanted _to do… He'd seemed somewhat taken aback. But he also seemed… grateful. For the first time, someone outside of the family wanted to _help_ Loki instead of simply despising him. And Odin had seemed very open to my solutions, as… _different _as they might be.

Loki had listened to every word of our conversation in rapt revulsion. It was not what he wanted. It was everything he _didn't _want. I'd explained this to Odin as well, but he agreed with me: we could no longer trust that Loki could remain imprisoned where he was. Despite how security had been increased, the magical barriers strengthened… he would _always_ try to escape. And one day, he_ would _succeed again. It was only a matter of time.

I fell back onto my bed again; Jekyll had moved down to the bottom of the mattress, so that I could tuck my feet under his fur and keep them warm. Odin agreed with what I had planned, was willing to go along with everything I wanted to do. Thor had been informed of the general idea, and he was very willing to allow me to do so; and grateful that I had suggested it in the first place.

My only problem now was the human part of the Human-Asgardian relations: namely, S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers.

But, seeing as I had a meeting with Director Fury tomorrow…

I closed my eyes and settled back on the pillows. Things were coming together at last.

* * *

I knew that my first impression to Nick Fury would be an important one. He was an incredibly important man; a man with resources, fighting skills/experience, and most importantly, _power._ I'd selected the clothes I now wore to reflect that; and indeed, they made a very clear, very poignant statement.

That statement was: _I don't __**give**__ a shit._

And I didn't. I'd been around so much power for the past few months that it no longer impressed me. I twirled my hair-which I had combed through but not styled- around my finger as I waited, blowing the steam off of my mug of coffee. The café had a fair number customers at this time, all preoccupied with their own thoughts, their own lives.

If none of this had ever happened, April and I would have been among those customers. We would both be slurping down our coffees as though our life depended on it, studying together despite our difference in majors. I would have posed a question to her about psychology, and she would have posed one to me about science, and we'd both look at each other like we'd just drooled on our shirts. Then, after a moment, we would have busted up laughing and teased each other about our chosen fields of study. It wouldn't have been hostile; rather, we would each hold a respect for the other, that they were able to understand these things so easily, when it seemed like such a foreign language to us…

But it _had _happened. And instead, I sat here alone, waiting to discuss my future with a super spy, the Norse god of Mischief moping in the back of my head, and a single cup of coffee in my hand.

I took a tentative sip from the drink, then set the mug down again. My sleeves were a bit too long, partially covering my hand; but I had cut a hole in them and shoved my thumb through, so that it looked like this was an intentional design. The shirt was grey and plain, the sleeves peeking out from underneath my sweater, my pants black, with simple stitched patterns at the ankles. I wore absolutely no jewelry, and black boots that hid a majority of the stitch work on my pants. And the black sweater that covered the entire ensemble…

It was fuzzy.

My eyes stung. Had none of this happened, this sweater would have been draped over the back of April's chair. I would have been plotting to snatch it from her before we left, swapping mine for hers, stealing it for a few hours. We always 'fought' over this stupid sweater; the warmest, most comfortable piece of clothing either of us owned. Had she been alive, April might have let me steal it, or she might have snatched it back at the last second, sticking her tongue out and saying, "Yeah, right. You have to be faster than _that, _Frost." And I would have laughed, or cursed emphatically for effect while we walked outside into the snow together.

But it wasn't draped over April's chair. April's mother had given it to me after she'd died, and right now… I didn't even have the strength to take it off and throw it over _my _chair. Despite how it was always warm in the café, and most times even _too _warm… today, I was shivering. Cold had settled deep in my chest and spread out to the rest of my body, frosting over my veins, and I was forced to keep the sweater on or risk freezing to death.

I recognized Nick Fury the moment he stepped into the room. I'd seen him at Stark Tower a few times before; when I'd been delivering pizzas there, and once when S.H.I.E.L.D had first visited. Back before any of this happened. Back before I even knew Loki's name, and he was just the voice in my head, my imaginary friend…

Nick Fury was tall, dark-skinned, and bald, with a black patch over one eye. He wore all black, from his shirt and pants to his leather trench coat, all the way down to his boots. I didn't see any sign of a concealed weapon, but I knew, beyond any doubt, that he had one.

He held a strange, commanding sort of presence. I could tell immediately-by his stance, his manner, his general air- that he was the sort of man who was used to being in charge. Fabulous. One more person of influence and power. Considering the fact that I'd been talking to the king of an entire planet the night before, I was less than impressed.

Still. He did have a kind of air of baddassery about him. I decided to give him a chance.

He walked right up to me; Clint and Natasha had probably given him a picture of me. Those traitorous little jerks were on my list. I leaned back in my chair, so that I could look him in the eye without standing up. I held out a hand.

"Director Fury, I presume."

He shook it. "Natalie Frost," He acknowledged. He pulled out the chair across from me, sitting in front of me. His one-eyed gaze was very intense, perfectly serious. I set the front legs of my chair back on the ground.

"Let's not mince words, shall we?" He asked, folding his hands together in front of him. "You know why I'm here."

I nodded, taking an absent-minded sip of my coffee. The steam wafted up into my face, curling around my features. "I'm a security threat. The technology in my blood is classified, as are the Avengers, yadda yadda yadda." I took a sip of coffee. "The question is, what are you going to _do _about it?"

He sat back. "That's our problem, Natalie. We need to find out where your loyalties lie; and what, exactly, you are. You're no agent; but you're no longer a _civilian_, either."

"I think she's more than earned the right to call herself an Avenger," A new voice joined the conversation. Tony Stark pulled up a chair, turning it around and sitting down on it backwards. He must have been following me.

Yep. Saw that coming.

"No arguments here," Steve said, sitting down across from Tony, filling the final seat at our table. Ok, that one I _didn't _see. He folded his arms over his chest and looked at Fury pointedly. Tony busied himself with pouring sugar into his paper to-go cup.

Despite everything, a little bit of pride fluttered in my heart. Natalie Frost, Avenger. It had a certain ring to it. And the fact that both Steve and Tony agreed on it, the fact that they were completely sincere, the fact that they _wanted _me as an Avenger… I almost smiled. Almost.

"Thanks, guys," I said, feeling a light flush heat up my cheeks. I cleared my throat quickly. "But I think there's something you should know first."

All three of them looked to me curiously. I took a deep breath, bracing myself. "I went to Asgard yesterday; and I talked to Loki. We were going to remove our connection." I swallowed. This wouldn't be taken well. "I refused to help him remove it. He's still in my head."

"_What?_" Tony and Steve said in perfect unison. At one time, it might have been hilarious.

"Nat, that's…" Tony seemed at a loss for words.

"After everything he's _done _to you?" Steve asked, his eyes hard. "What were you _thinking?_ Natalie, you have to get him _out!_"

But Fury was watching me silently, studying me with his one good eye. I turned my gaze away from all of them, looking out the window, into the street. Cars buzzed along the road outside, a couple walked arm in arm down the cement path, and the sun streamed into my eyes. I watched it all for a moment. Observing the mediocrity. Everything that I was giving up.

For Loki.

No. No, that wasn't true. I was doing this for her. For April.

"I don't want this happening to anyone else," I said slowly, carefully. Trying to get my words out right. "And if I break our link… it _will _happen again. But if I stay in Loki's head long enough, there will come a time when he will be completely unable to do anything that would hurt me. And that includes killing someone." I looked back to them all, keeping my gaze as steady and even as possible, not looking away. Despite their incredulous stares, despite their what-are-you-smoking looks, I remained unflinching, immovable.

"I've already talked it over with Odin and Thor, and they agree with me. They both think that this is our best chance for keeping Loki locked safely away." I bit my lip; no more stalling. I had to tell them _everything._

"And… as well as keeping the link… I'm going to start visiting him regularly," I said at last. I forced myself to look them all directly in the eye- first Tony, then Steve, and finally Fury- before I went on. "At least twice a week, I'm going to see him. Just to talk. To try and help. Because… if I don't…"

I didn't finish. I didn't have to. They knew what I was trying to say. But that didn't stop Tony from looking at me, completely stunned, both eyebrows shooting straight upwards.

"I don't believe this," he said, staring at me. "I mean, I literally _do not _believe this." He sat back, his hands going up in exasperation before he ran them across his face. He groaned the words against his fingers: "You're telling me that you want to become Loki's _shrink?_"

I winced, but hid it with a shrug and a nod. "Basically… yes." I forced myself to lean back, to fold my arms over my chest, to act as though it did not matter. "That's the general gist of it."

"Natalie, he's not going to change," Steve said, trying to be gentle about it, trying to sound reasonable. "Nothing you can do will help him."

I turned my rock-steady gaze back to him. "I've told you once before, Steve." I reminded him in cold tones. "You have your weapons, and I have mine. You and I fight entirely different wars. I don't tell you how to fight your battles, Soldier Boy; and I don't need you telling me how to fight mine."

I stood my ground, holding his stare for a very, very long time. He studied me carefully, his eyes scanning mine, digging inside of them, looking for… I don't know what, exactly. But whatever it was, he seemed to find it; because after a moment, he sighed and sat back.

"All right." He sighed again. "All right. Fine. Let's just hope you know what you're doing."

"I do," I said firmly; and for the first time, I was completely sure that I was right. This was what I was good at. This was what I was supposed to do; what I was _always _supposed to do.

What I was _meant _for.

I wasn't like the others; I wasn't an agent, or a soldier, or a warrior. Sure, I could kick butt when I needed to… but this was always who I would be in the end. A healer. A mender of minds.

Tony, on the other hand, still seemed unconvinced. He looked to the spy sitting across from me. "Fury, tell me you see this insanity, too."

Fury considered. "Actually," he said after a moment, looking me up and down thoughtfully. "This _could _be the answer we're looking for."

Tony stared, then threw up his hands again. "Unbelievable," he repeated. "Have you all lost your minds?"

But we ignored him. Fury looked to me. "Would you be willing to write official reports for S.H.I.E.L.D. on these visits?"

That threw me a little; I'd been expecting more resistance from him in terms of this. I frowned. "What are you thinking?"

"Simple," he explained. "Loki is dangerous. And where he is now, we have no way of making sure that he isn't planning something else, making sure that he can not escape." He sat back, folding his arms over his chest. It was strange; I couldn't read his expression in the slightest. No, that wasn't it; I just couldn't read _him. _I couldn't figure him out. He was vague, opaque, a shadow of a man with clouded, hidden emotions. Sincerity, obviously, was a foreign concept for him. But he _appeared_ to honestly believe what he was saying. "It'll make a lot of people feel safer if we had someone continually monitoring his state of mind."

Steve glanced to him. I thought that over, chewing on my index fingernail. "So… if this becomes an official, sanctioned thing… I won't be a security risk anymore. I'll be a part of S.H.I.E.L.D." I nodded appreciatively. "Smart. But Loki isn't the only one on your 'dangerous-people-with-superpowers' list. If I start working with Loki, what's going to stop the higher-ups from demanding similar reports on the Avengers?"

"Then write those reports," Fury answered sternly, without hesitation. For the first time, I got a subtle impression of his no-nonsense style. As far as he was concerned, if there was a problem, then there was a solution; no matter how strange and _unconventional _that solution may seem.

"Woah, woah, woah, wait." Tony cut in, "You want Natalie to be… _our _shrink?"

"Two birds, one stone," I answered for Fury, talking before the spy could even open his mouth. I was seriously warming up to this idea of his. "Look, the Avengers _themselves _are probably considered 'security risks'. You know that as well as I do. It'll make people feel a lot safer if they know that you're not suddenly going to snap and start killing people. If I monitor your mental health continually…" I frowned, stopping suddenly. I turned to Fury. "The only problem is… I'm a college dropout, here. I'm not exactly… qualified."

"Don't worry about that," Fury said, his words a little bit too solemn. I decided it was best not to ask what he had in mind. "And I don't really see any other options," The Director added.

Well, he was right in that regard. I highly doubted any of the other Avengers would trust someone else enough to actually have 'therapy' with them. I wasn't even sure they trusted _me _that much.

"And if we refuse?" Tony asked; not of Fury, but of me. "I'm definitely not going to lie down on a couch and talk about my 'feelings' with you, Pizza Girl."

"I will," Steve said with a shrug. Tony gave him a 'you-goody-two-shoes-traitor' look. I smiled a little; good ol' Cap.

"I don't expect you to do that," I promised Stark. "You know that's not how I do things." I shrugged. "It'll be just like it usually is. I'll hang out at the Tower, we'll play video games, watch TV… you can invent things and dazzle me with your nerd-speak… and if you ever feel the need to talk, we'll talk." I slugged him in the arm gently. "And we can still insult the crap out of each other."

Tony lifted his eyebrows and turned his still-disbelieving gaze to Fury. "And you're ok with this? Paying her to slack off all day?"

"If it keeps her from releasing classified information… and if her reports accurately reflect the situation… then yes."

"It'll be fine," I insisted. "And if something happens, and the world is threatened again… then I'll suit up with the rest of you." I pointedly smacked my palm against the silver bracelet that encircled my wrist. It had taken a beating over the past few months, but it stayed where it was, still shining. "We can't get these things out of me, anyway; we might as well make use of them."

Loki stirred in the back of my head, reacting to my easy lie. I felt him watching me curiously. He scanned my thoughts, trying to find my reasoning for not telling them the truth; that he had offered to remove the nanos, that I had refused. I let him search. The two of us would eventually know everything about each other, anyway. There was no point in hiding anything.

"Sounds good to me," Steve said amicably, standing up. But there was a look in the Soldier's eye… he glanced to Tony, clearly unwilling to accept any more argument on his part. Stark sighed heavily and stood as well.

"Sounds insane to me. But no one listens to me, anyway," he pushed his chair in. "Come on, Pizza Girl; you're late."

"Late?" I looked up at him. "Late for what?"

"Stuff. Just get moving."

I glanced at Fury. He settled back in his chair. His one-eyed gaze didn't seem to have left me once. "There will be a lot of paperwork," he said, meeting my stare. "You'll have to come to the Helicarrier within the next few days."

I nodded. I didn't know what a 'Helicarrier' was, but I figured that the Avengers would tell me. "Tomorrow," I promised, as Tony gripped my wrist and started to tow me towards the door, moving with brisk, unstoppable steps.

"I'll take her myself," Stark said over his shoulder. "But right now, she has to be somewhere."

Fury watched us leave with a blank, hard stare. A shiver trickled down my spine. Something told me that he and I were destined to have a somewhat strained relationship; but then, that was usually the case with me and spies. Then the Café's door closed, and I was being dragged towards Tony's car.

I yanked my wrist out of his hand. "So what the hell was that?" I asked, a bit too calmly.

He shrugged as Steve opened the back door of the car, letting me have shotgun. "I trust Eye Patch about as far as I can throw him, Nat. You're making deals with the wrong people; if I hadn't gotten you out of there when I did, he'd have made you into an agent." He shuddered theatrically and got into the driver's seat. "Besides. You really _are _late."

I frowned, but got into the passenger's side. Loki was still listening; he had found his answers, found out why I had lied, but he didn't comment on it for a moment. I looked out of the window as Tony started the car and began driving.

_You are not going to tell the Avengers that the nanobots can be removed, _Loki noted as the scenery began speeding by; it wasn't a question.

_Nope, _was my easy response; but my hand was starting to shake. I hid the trembling by resting my chin in my palm, gazing out the window at the motion-blurred scenery. I could barely talk to him, after everything he'd done… could barely listen to that voice which had taunted me, which had whispered something into April's ear… something that I'd never found out…

But I kept it together. This was what had to be done.

_Do you think they will force you to be rid of them? _He inquired softly. _Do you think that you will lose that which makes you… special?_

_No. _I hesitated. I'd never really been able to clarify in my own head why I didn't want them to know. That was probably why he was asking these questions in the first place; because he hadn't been able to find his answers from my scattered thoughts.

_They would never do that to me. They wouldn't let __**S.H.I.E.L.D.**__ do that to me. But… _I paused again. _This isn't __**about **__me. It's about you. If I told them that you offered to cure me… they would either suspect a trick… or they would see it as a weakness. See __**me **__as your weakness. And if that's all I would be seen as… _I shook my head a little; Steve saw it and stiffened. Crap. He would guess that I wasn't exactly 'all here' right now. I tried to finish what I was saying quickly.

_I can't explain it, _I concluded. _But I won't be reduced to that. I'm not a weapon that they can use against you. _

Loki thought this over for a long time, his mind buzzing. Then, suddenly, he retreated again, vanishing from my head. I could still hear his thoughts lingering in the background, but I could ignore it fairly easily.

I closed my eyes for the rest of the journey to wherever Tony was taking me. I think I almost dozed off; I was so tired these days. My fingernails ran absentmindedly against the fuzzy surface of my sweater's sleeve.

We were mostly quiet the whole way there; Steve and Tony exchanged a few words here and there, but otherwise we remained content with the silence.

After a while, the car pulled up in front of a restaurant; a slightly fancier place than the Café. It was the same Italian place that Steve and I had once had lunch at together; way back when. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Tony reached across me and opened my door.

"There's a reservation in your name," he said. "You're welcome."

"I don't recall thanking you," I said with mock-hauteur.

"You will," he answered. I smiled a little and unbuckled my seat belt, getting out of the car.

"So this guy you're setting me up with; let me guess. He's tall, handsome, and likes long walks on the beach?"

Tony took the jab with a grin. "Just get in there, Frost. Being tardy isn't very ladylike."

"Who said I was a lady?"

"Well, I know a few Asgardians who seem to think so, 'Lady Natalie'."

I chuckled. Trading insults with Tony was almost as easy as breathing; which, these days, meant that it was a much greater struggle than it should be. I gave Steve a wave goodbye as the two drove off, then headed inside. I didn't know why Tony had dropped me off here, but I had long ago stopped questioning the reasons for anything that he did. The man once threw me a birthday party when the end of the world was immanent; if that doesn't say something about the guy, I don't know what does.

I gave my name at the front, and a waiter led me to a table near the back. Close to the restroom, should I decide I wanted to make an escape through the window. I'd have preferred a direct escape route, like something closer to the door. Because that was how I viewed things these days. Seeing whether or not a place was easy to defend, looking for exits… I sighed heavily. When had my life become this?

"_Jeg er stolt af dig."_

I froze; immediately, my mind started translating the words in my head. It was Danish; my skills were seriously rusty, since I hadn't been in the classroom for so long… But I managed to pick apart the sentence in my head, translate it one word at a time…

_I'm proud of you._

My mouth went dry. Slowly, as though every movement could shatter me like glass, I turned around in my seat.

Cameron Frost, my father, was standing behind me, his eyes on the ground.

I blinked away the moisture in my eyes. "D-Dad?" I couldn't stop the very slight stammer, the tiniest of tremors. I cleared my throat, but I didn't trust myself to speak again. For a long moment, the two of us just stayed where we were, unable to think of anything to say. The world rang hollow and echoed in the moment. The universe froze.

"They…" he cleared his throat. "They released me from the hospital a few days ago," he informed me, speaking at last. He still wouldn't look up, but rather studied his shoes, shuffling a bit on his feet. "And… Stark… he told me about what Loki did to me… and what he did to you."

Immediately, my brain started working on this, latching onto this one little fact so that I wouldn't have to face the bigger problem that was staring me in the face. So that I wouldn't have to look at the turbulent, chaotic storm of emotion that was my relationship with my father.

Stark had told my father about everything; so maybe we'd have an excuse as to why he'd snapped out of his hatred for me, why he'd managed to shake off Loki's influence. Something that wouldn't involve the fact that Loki had let him go. Maybe I could BS something about how he'd also hit his head when that wave of Tesseract energy had collided into him. Thor would probably guess that I was lying, but I was fairly certain he'd keep it quiet if I asked him to.

But this train of thought could only distract me from the inevitable for so long; eventually, my eyes had to focus back on Cameron. He swallowed, wringing his hands out; and I could see sweat beading on his forehead, dampening his hair a little. His hair that matched mine exactly in shade.

"Can I… can I sit down?" he asked uncomfortably, gesturing to the chair across from me. My eyes fazed out; I couldn't stop staring at the door, couldn't keep myself focused… he might as well have been talking to a brick wall …

But, after a long moment, I nodded vaguely. He sat down quickly, grateful for something to do, some way to fill the silence. And then we were left, sitting across from each other, unable to say anything, unable to think of anything _to _say, even if we could have spoken…

Finally, I looked him in the eye, studying the ice-blue irises. My thoughts were roiling about in a panic, and I was scrambling to pull myself together. How many times had I planned for this day? How many times had I gone over in my head what, exactly, I would say to him? How many conversations had I rehearsed in front of the mirror, how many times had I broken down into tears, how many times had I screamed? And now… none of that mattered. Because it was never _him, _it was never _his fault._

I swallowed. There were so many things I wanted to say, so many things I _had to say…_ But what came out instead was five words; spoken in a very weak, very small voice. I felt like I was seven years old again, felt as though I was watching him go, watching him slam the door, watching the hate twist in his eyes as I broke in half. My voice sounded small and tiny, just like that little girl who died in me that day.

"I'm not a monster, daddy."

Pain lanced through his eyes as his gaze whipped up to me; at last, he looked directly at me. I met his eyes steadily, though my lower lip was trembling and I had to sit on my hands to keep from biting my nails.

"No," he answered, almost immediately. "You're not. Of course you're not, Natalie. You're one of the most heroic people I've ever met."

I didn't feel very heroic at the moment. I felt unstable, as though the ground had disappeared beneath my feet and I was just standing on air; one wrong move, and I would plunge into the void forever. I was clinging onto whatever I could, trying to find something to hang on to, something that would keep me from falling… But nothing worked. My stomach twisted in knots. Everything seemed so… unreal.

"I am…" My father continued, looking down at the table. "_So _sorry, Nat. For everything I've done to you, for all of the… _horrific _things that I said. I never would have… I mean, if I'd just _known…_"

I looked away. "I know," I whispered.

"I would never hurt you. You have to believe that. If I had known, for even one _second, _the truth about you…"

"The truth?" I cut him off. My words were laced with acid. "What _truth _is that? I don't even _know _what the _truth _is anymore. I don't know what I _am._"

I forced myself to shut up before I could get any angrier. I knew that it was misdirected, that I was really angry at Loki… The Trickster remained silent in the back of my head, leaving me alone in this darkness…

Cameron and I didn't say another word for almost ten minutes; when the waiter came up, we ordered quietly, then returned to our separate thoughts.

Finally, I spoke up again.

"I want to believe you," I said; my voice so quiet it was nigh inaudible. I tried to speak louder and failed miserably. "I really do. Because I know what Loki can do, what he's capable of. But…" I swallowed. I couldn't think straight. But I forced myself to push onwards anyway.

"I spent thirteen years… _thirteen years… _just… _hating _you, Cameron. Despising and loathing you, desperately trying to prove you wrong. My whole life was centered around that hatred, centered around that need to prove to _you _that I was… the good guy. That I wasn't the evil creature that you thought me to be."

I took a deep breath that somehow didn't manage to make it into my lungs. Curling my arms close to my body, I said, "And after all that time…I don't know if I can _stop _hating you." I glanced up at him. "Does that make sense?"

He nodded slowly. "It makes perfect sense, Nat." I flinched at the nickname, my eyes flickering down to the wood grains on our table, little marching dots, tiny insect soldiers. "Because… it's the same way I feel… about you."

I looked back up to him. I hadn't thought about that. Hadn't been _able _to think about that. And yet… it made perfect sense. He seemed embarrassed to admit it, seemed almost ashamed… once again, he wouldn't meet my eyes, wouldn't even look at me. Thirteen years of viewing me as a monster… only to realize that it wasn't real… that I was just a little girl all along, just a kid after all… My eyes started to sting as something Banner once said to me came back to haunt me:

"_No. You're not a child. And I doubt you ever really were."_

A shiver ran throughout my entire body, and I pushed it aside. The ache in my chest was growing, and I knew that pretty soon I would either start crying, or just lose it entirely. I was tempted to run; to race out the door, to just leave and never come back. To keep running away forever, to flee from my life and all that it had become, if only to escape what had to be done.

"I'm not saying that it's going to be easy, Natalie," Cameron said after another long pause. "And… I'm not saying that I'll be able to fix everything that happened. I can't go back in time and be the father that you deserve; no matter how much I might want to. But… I'm saying that… I'm willing to try." He took a deep breath, steadying himself. I could see him hiding his hands beneath the table, trying to cover the fact that they were shaking as badly as mine were. I could see myself in every single facial expression, in every movement. I'd never been that much like my mother, never felt like I completely belonged in my family… and here, sitting in front of me, was the man who had never been my family, and so obviously _should _have been…

"I want to be a part of your life, Nat," he said softly. "Maybe not as your father at first; but I hope I can become that." He reached out with a trembling hand and placed it on the table, palm up, close to where mine rested. Reflexively, I pulled my own hands back.

"If you'll let me?" He asked, pleadingly.

I stared into his eyes. Just a week ago, those eyes had been locked on mine, so silver-blue and cold… they had been looking over a gun barrel, his finger tightening around the trigger… completely ready to execute me without any hesitation, without any regrets. I had once seemed so hideous to him that this action would've been completely justified to him. To a degree, I knew that I must _still _be that hideous to him.

But, at the same time… I, too, was looking at a monster that I knew to be a man. I had my own disgust for him, my own hatred. So, as much as I hated it, as much as I despised his suppressed distaste for me… I understood it.

Ugh. Doing the right thing all the time was getting _exhausting._

I placed my hand on top of his, squeezing it gently. "Of course, dad." My voice cracked. A tear finally fell, and I wiped it off on the sleeve of April's sweater. "Always."

* * *

**A/N: WARM FUZZY FEELINGS! **

**Ugh, only took like, fifty chapters of angst. *headdesk* Oh well. **

**Ok! So, I've got one chapter left, followed by a short epilogue. After that, I may or may not post the preview for the sequel. **

**Natalie: *spit take* The WHAT? **

… **the sequel…**

**Natalie: YOU PLAN ON PUTTING ME THROUGH MORE OF THIS ANGSTY CRAP? ARE YOU **_**INSANE? **_

** … a little bit…? **

** Natalie: *grumbles* freaking writers…**

** Look, **_**you're **_**the one who evolved into a character too awesome for me to let go of just yet. And, anyway, you beat me with a baseball bat any time I do something that you don't like, so it's not like you won't have control over a majority of where the story goes. **

** Natalie: Yeah, right. Whatever. **

** … *coughs* **_**Any**_**way… that's the plan. The sequel will quite possibly be filled with a bit more angst than this one, (with the normal warm fuzzies interspersed throughout, of course) and will be titled 'The Avenging of Loki Laufeyson'. So keep an eye out! Or, you know, don't. Whatever. Some of you have lives, after all. **

** I don't have a life. I have Avengers. **

** Also! (Because I feel like making this already way-too-long author's note a lot longer!) Do you know those annoying fanfiction writers who put song titles into their Author's Notes, talking about how well it fits for their story and/or characters? And they tell you to look the song up and you'll see for yourself? And you just look at the screen like what-the-what-I'm-so-not-doing-that-who-are-you-kidding? Ugh, don't you just hate it when authors do that?**

** On a completely unrelated note… OHMYPICKLES you guys! There are these songs on the internets that work absolutely **_**perfectly **_**for Natalie and Loki! YAY! **

** … I have no shame… **

** The first is called 'Cosmic Love', by Florence and the Machine, and works **_**perfectly **_**for their relationship (from Natalie's Point of View). If you view the 'stars' and 'moon' that had 'all been blown out' as April and/or her father… it's just… woah. O_o Particularly the last verse, considering the events of this chapter. **

** And the second! 'World so Cold' by 12 Stones. (Also from Natalie's POV). I'd be lying if I said that it was my inspiration for the scene where she suddenly 'sees the pattern' in Loki's behavior, but it's what I feel like she's thinking. That's kinda the background track that I imagine is playing in her head during that scene, as she decides that she's not going to break their link… Except for the line: 'Never, never, never, never, never do this again'; **_**that, **_**I think, fits better with the previous chapter, when Natalie is beating the snot out of Loki. :D (Because that scene was a lot more fun to write than I really care to admit… and that just makes it even better…)**

** Anyway. You are all the most amazing people ever, for reading/reviewing this, and if you are actually reading this pointless little author's note here, then I commend you for being double-awesome. Thank you again for your support, because I can't possibly say it enough!**


	19. All Things Considered

**A/N: OK! As promised, this is the last chapter: not counting the epilogue and the possible preview that I may or may not be posting. **

**Also: I wanted to say thank you to my guest reviewer (Guest) for pointing out that Rihanna's 'Stay' was another great song for the scene where Natalie decides to keep the connection. I looked it up, and it's now in my favorites list. :) I'm not normally a Rihanna fan, but that is a really great song that actually fits pretty well for that scene. In a kinda adorable way. :P **

**And hooray for early updates! **

**On to the story! **

* * *

I'd like to say it was easy.

I'd like to say that my father and I grew close instantaneously, that it wasn't awkward at all when he moved back into our house two weeks later. I'd like to say that it was easy for me to see my mother forgive him so completely. I'd like to say that it was easy for me to do the same.

I'd like to say that Loki opened up to me very quickly, that he got the help he so desperately needed, that he accepted it readily, and without complaint. I'd like to say that in the next few weeks, he stopped hating me, and I, him. I'd like to say that I didn't see April's lifeless body every time I looked at him.

I'd like to say that April's funeral wasn't worse than any nightmare, that it wasn't hell to just stand there and watch as they lowered her coffin into the ground. I'd like to say that it got easier after that, and that I was able to accept her death and put the past behind me. I'd like to say that I didn't cry every day when I went to her grave and put fresh flowers by her tombstone.

I'd like to say that her mother didn't start to harbor any kind of resentment towards me, that she didn't demand for me to return April's sweater to her; along with every other piece of her that remained in my life. I'd like to say that she didn't start blaming me for April's death, that she didn't disconnect from our family entirely. I'd like to say that I had the strength to keep from giving that sweater back to her, washed and folded neatly.

I'd like to say that I handled her newfound hatred for me well, that I understood immediately that it was just her way of grieving, that I was able to ignore her snide remarks that continued to get harsher and harsher as time went on. I'd like to say that I didn't cry when she saw me at April's grave, when she screamed at me to leave, and to never return.

But of course, if I said any of this… it would be a lie.

I _can _say, however, that life did what it will always do; it went on. The world kept spinning. The sun kept rising and falling in the sky. Day turned to night and night to day just like always.

I can also say that the Avengers, though slightly adverse to the idea of me writing reports on them at first, eventually agreed. The suggestion grew on them slowly, but it _did _grow on them. Clint and Natasha, of course, were used to regular psych exams, so this was actually a nice change of pace for them, as I was less of an actual 'shrink' and more of a semi-friend. I was true to my word with Tony; most of the time we did nothing more or less than acted like our usual selves. Banner was willing to open up a little on occasion, as was Steve. And Thor and I… well, given Loki's influence, the two of us shared a very strange connection; as though we were related through blood. He was willing to talk about anything with me.

I never pulled out the 'Shrink Couch'. We just went about with our usual lives, and I would monitor them, monitor the way they were thinking. Like I always used to, anyway. And while I jokingly called them all my 'patients', the only one who really fit that description was Loki, as he was the only one that I actually spent hour-or-so long 'sessions' with.

Fury's superiors, though they apparently did not like the idea of me becoming a member of their organization-as a civilian with little to no training- eventually agreed. I actually got _paid _for hanging out with the Avengers all day. Best job _ever._

But… it had its difficult moments. Loki was still furious for what I had done to him, furious at me for trapping him in his own mind, for not breaking our connection. It was impossible, keeping up with his roller-coaster emotions; some days, he would throw out the most cutting things he could think of, while other days he would just sit mutely in the back of the room, all but ignoring me.

Still, I persisted. As hard as it was to even look at him, I forced myself to keep a smile on my face, forced myself to try and forget.

After all, what else could I do, but forget?

* * *

It had been a few weeks since my initiation into S.H.I.E.L.D. I was in my room, back at my old house. I'd been alternating between that and Stark Tower, which was still under repairs. (Tony was very vocal about wondering what, exactly, Loki had against the Tower, given that it had almost been destroyed twice now in his failed conquests.)

It was another morning. Another morning in a long line of mornings, when I would get up and not know where I was. Where that just-woke-up haze would keep me thinking- just for a second- that the world was still a safe, understandable place. For that one moment, I wouldn't recognize my own room through the mental picture that was imposed above it; a mental picture of my room back at the Tower.

But then one thing or another would spark a memory in my head. Usually, it was one of the pictures in my room; pictures of me and April. Pictures that, one by one, I had been turning face-down.

Sometimes, I would be shaken out of my morning disassociation of reality by the sound of my father's voice, or his laughter, from outside of my room. The sounds of my mother and father talking, having breakfast, laughing like nothing was wrong, like the last thirteen years didn't happen… he'd never thought that _she _was a monster, after all…

_Get it together, Natalie._

On this particular day it was the smell of bacon that snapped me back into reality; bacon that was not burnt, and waffles in the same state. So my mother, obviously, was not cooking.

I looked up at the ceiling. Jekyll, whose usual idea of waking me up in the morning was to jump on my stomach, took a different approach today and started licking my face. I pushed him off me, grimacing, and he fell back, his front paws splaying out and his tail wagging. Excited. He wanted to play.

"Not now, fur face," I said, stroking his head a few times and turning over in my bed. With each passing day, it had been getting harder and harder to get up, knowing what lay ahead of me, knowing the battles that I'd have to face. Getting up, getting dressed, getting ready. Going to the Tower, to Asgard, sometimes to S.H.I.E.L.D.

Dealing with my parents; with my mother's mortal fear of Loki and my father's slowly-building anger towards him. I had my own fear to deal with. My own rage.

And then I'd have to deal with Loki himself…

I'd been putting this visit off. I had to see him today, or I'd be falling behind. Not that Thor or Odin would particularly care; I was there on my own time, helping a man that I shouldn't be helping. But I knew that if I let myself stay back, even for _one _session, then it would all be over. I would never be able to force myself to go back there again.

I sighed, pulled myself out of bed, and got dressed quickly. The usual crap. I threw my backpack over my shoulder; it still felt weird to go anywhere without that thing, so I stuck with it for now. Apparently, Fury was trying to pull some strings to get me back into college; all expenses paid, since it would be for the sake of my title as a 'psychologist'. Though, technically, I didn't _have _an actual title. I was almost a spy in and of myself: S.H.I.E.L.D.'s eyes and ears on the Avengers and Loki.

But at least they _knew _that I was reporting to Fury. And I knew how to keep one or two things quiet; Fury didn't need to know everything about their lives to know that they were in a fine mental state.

Well… that the Avengers were, at least.

I hadn't even written my first report yet; another thing that I was putting off. I didn't know what to say; Tony wasn't open about anything. Loki certainly wasn't cooperating. And the others… well, they were the others.

I looked at myself in the mirror, trying to ignore the dark circles under my eyes. I pulled a comb through my hair, doing my best to keep from hearing the muted laughter that was coming from the kitchen. I decided to skip breakfast; I'd eat at the Tower. Have some of Tony's patented 'inedible waffles'. Fun.

My stomach growled at the scent of bacon, but not even that could tempt me to spend any longer with my parents than I had to. I gave myself a nod in the mirror, then yanked my door open and walked out, trying to stand tall. I went straight to the kitchen, slouching in the doorway. My mother, sitting at the far end of the table, caught sight of me first, and she beamed.

"Good morning, Natalie," She greeted me. I'll say one thing; forgiving my father seemed to have done wonders for her. She'd been smiling a lot more lately, hadn't been so fearful…

"Mornin' mom," I mumbled in response. On hearing my voice, Cameron turned to me, his mouth full. We didn't meet each other's gaze. "Mornin' Cameron."

My mother's lips tugged downwards, a hint of a scowl threatening to break through. It was always an awkward thing, deciding what my father and I should call each other. He still called me Nat from time to time, but that was becoming rarer and rarer; mostly because I flinched almost every time I heard the word aloud. And I was finding it nigh impossible to call him 'dad'. For the past thirteen years, that word had been more than taboo; it had been a swear. A foul expression, uttered only with the utmost disdain.

"Good morning, Natalie," he said after swallowing, a little too careful. We were walking on eggshells. We were always walking on eggshells. It had been easier for my mother to forgive him, because she had known him _before_ Loki's influence had taken hold. It would have almost made _sense _to her that it wasn't his fault, that something else had been manipulating his mind… because that behavior was so uncharacteristic for him.

I, on the other hand, had never really known the person that my mother had once loved. I had only ever known the Cameron Frost who hated me. Who loathed me.

And, try as I might, forgiveness wasn't coming to me so easily these days.

"I'm gonna head off to the Tower," I told them both. "I have work to do."

The two exchanged a look. "Actually, Natalie, we were really hoping that you could eat breakfast here for a change," my mother said, very calmly, gesturing to the extra plate and silverware that sat at my usual spot on the table.

I fought the sarcastic '_tough luck' _that tried to force its way out of my throat as my eyes went immediately to my father. He wasn't even looking at me. Swallowing bitter words, I said, as casually as I could manage, "I think it would be better if I just went straight to work. Gotta earn a living, you know?" I made as if to turn around.

"Natalie," My mother's tone immediately shifted. Friend Mode was off; Mom Mode was back up and running. It was clear that she would hear no argument. "Sit down and have breakfast with the family, please."

I _loved _the way she said 'please'. Like it was actually a choice matter. I fought a very heavy sigh and slid my arms out of my backpack straps. I crossed the kitchen, over to the table, and sat myself down in front of the plates, dropping the pack on the ground beside me.

"Thank you," my mother said primly, giving me a nod and piling on the waffles. I stopped her from putting more than three on the plate; as hungry as I was, I highly doubted I could eat _that much._

Besides. My appetite was kinda disappearing.

"So, Natalie," my father swallowed another bite of his syrup-saturated waffle (the same exact way I ate mine) and leaned on his arm, looking me in the eye as he made small talk. "Which 'patient' do you have today?"

I rolled my eyes. "They're not my 'patients'," I said, not unkindly. And it was true, they weren't. That was just the running joke; but it seemed Cameron didn't understand that. Didn't seem to understand that it was a _joke, _and one only told by me and the _Avengers._ I stared at my fork, wanting to hurry up and finish eating but unwilling to move my eyes away from the shiny surface. "And Loki. I'm going to see Loki."

As always, my mother took a deep, stabilizing breath at the mention of the Asgardian who had torn our family apart. "Again?" Cameron asked.

"Twice a week, every week," I answered, keeping my tone light. I managed to stuff my mouth full of waffle; which was so overloaded with syrup that it practically disintegrated the second it touched my tongue.

My dad deliberated on that for a moment. "How's he doing?"

I lifted an eyebrow, swallowing. A large part of me was tempted to respond, _why, he's watching our every move as we speak. Why do you ask? _But I kept that little tidbit of information to myself. They knew the nature of my link. They knew that anything they said could be directly delivered to him. They did not need to be reminded.

Besides, Loki wasn't very interested in what was happening right now. He, like me, had just gotten up recently, and was really only watching out of habit.

"Not so great," I responded. "He's still pretty pissed at me for the whole thing."

My mother huffed. "He has no right to be. After everything he's done…"

I gripped my coffee mug tightly, my eyes falling to the table, tracing patterns in the wood grains. Yeah. Everything he'd done. As if I needed someone to remind me of that. Of what he _was. _

"Especially considering what you're doing for him now," My father concurred, taking a large gulp of coffee. My face went hot.

"I'm not doing it for _him,_" I growled. "It's not about _him._"

Loki winced a little at the hostility in my tone, then smothered it with his usual coldness, his typical bleak outlook. Great. Now he'd be worse than ever. I let out a sigh; I was tired of fighting my own hatred. And his emotions mingling with my own just made everything so much worse.

My father, however, seemed unfazed by my harsh words. "It doesn't matter who you're doing it for." He pointed to me with his fork. "The very fact that you're _doing _it says something very important about you." He leaned forwards a little in his chair, a bit closer to me. "Most people would've just closed the link and been done with it. Hell, most people probably wouldn't have left him _alive. _And if they did, they would have gone to his prison cell every day to gloat." He swallowed down a quick bite of bacon and added, "And who knows what _I _would have done. I mean, I'd be throttling him myself if there wasn't a bazillion light years between us."

I pushed pieces of waffle around on my plate, my stomach twisting into a pretzel. One hand cradled it carefully as Loki continued to listen.

My father's tone softened a little. He picked up his coffee cup and examined the contents carefully. "You're a good person, Nat," he said after a second's deliberation. "And you're a hell of a lot better than _me_."

My heart fluttered as he threw back his coffee, draining what must have been half a cup in just a few moments. I glanced to my own cup, which I had yet to finish. The remaining liquid was taunting me, and I wanted to just down it in one go, like he had, like I usually did. My mother scowled and slapped Cameron on the arm with a newspaper.

"There you go, chugging that stuff down again!" She scolded. "If you don't choke, you're going to burn your throat out!" She shook her head, grumbling under her breath, "Honestly, you're as bad as she is."

My mom gestured vaguely with one hand to me on 'she'. Cameron winked at her.

"You know I never leave a single drop of coffee behind," he said, mock-serious, our earlier discussion forgotten. But my heart dropped down to my toes. I felt a little woozy as I glanced to my coffee cup. I never, _ever _left an empty cup of coffee. It drove me crazy. Absolutely bonkers. It didn't matter how much I'd had to drink beforehand; it was like an addiction. I had to _finish _it. This innocent little habit, this strange quirk that I'd always had, my whole life…

And I'd gotten it… from my father?

I realized suddenly that I was shivering. My throat was too thick to swallow any more of the waffles that Cameron had made, so I pushed away from the table, yanking a disposable to-go cup out of the cupboard. I poured the remainder of my coffee into this cup as I said quickly, "I'm… I'm sorry guys, I've really got to go. I'll be late."

My mother still looked unhappy, but she did not protest as I slung my backpack over my shoulders again, heading towards the door. I was out in moments, but as I stepped out into the fresh-for-New-York-but-poison-anywhere-else-air, my father's voice called me back.

"Natalie?"

I stopped. I thought about continuing onwards, thought about just running until I got to the bus stop; or better yet, to Stark Tower. But I didn't. I sighed heavily and turned around to face him, tightening the straps on my bag until they were cutting into my arms and shoulders.

"Yeah?"

He paused for a few moments. Then, very deliberately, he took a step forwards and said, "I meant it, Natalie. You _are _a good person. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Even you."

My eyes stung. I just… I couldn't deal. I literally could not handle this. My mouth was so dry that my tongue felt like sandpaper. "Thanks," I managed to rasp out.

Then, like the coward I felt I was, I turned and ran.

Don't get me wrong. I was overjoyed to hear those words come from my father's mouth. I was practically ecstatic. I wanted to just run up to him, throw my arms around him, and cry big, happy tears into his shirt. But I couldn't bring myself to do it.

When it came to my father, I was torn. I loved him and I hated him. I wanted his approval and his demise. I wanted him to stay forever, but also to leave and never come back. I couldn't figure it out. I couldn't figure it out and it was _killing _me.

How could I be expected to figure out everyone else's minds, everyone else's thoughts and emotions… if I couldn't even figure out my own?

I tucked these thoughts aside. Problems for another time. I waited impatiently for the bus, which took me within walking distance of Stark Tower. Thor had agreed to meet me there with the Tesseract later today; which meant that I had a bit of time to hang out with Tony and/or Bruce beforehand. The others had been somewhat preoccupied with their own lives, now that the immediate crisis with Loki was over, but Bruce had remained to do a few last tests on the nanos, and of course, Tony actually lived there. Steve had been visiting more regularly than Clint and Natasha, but I supposed that much was to be expected.

As I made it to the Tower, I knocked on the door; JARVIS opened it for me after a moment. Tony's voice came over the speaker system: "You bring me any pizza today?"

"Nope," I called back cheerfully. "Just a nice little yellow legal pad, ready to record all of your deepest thoughts, fears and insecurities."

"Ah-ah-ah, save all that for your favorite patient." I flinched at the mention of Loki, who continued watching without really paying attention. This no longer interested him.

The others had long ago started referring to him as my 'favorite' or 'star' patient. While I could think of quite a few of them that I would rather spend time with, they seemed convinced that I preferred Loki. I put it down to their shock concerning the situation; and to their own hatred towards the man. Clint had been less than pleased when he'd realized that I'd kept the link; he and Natasha hadn't looked at me the same way since.

I set my pack down beside the door, ready for when I was to leave. Once realizing that I had no intent to reply, Tony's voice drifted over the speakers again. "You know you made the papers again, right?"

"You're kidding, right?" I asked, exasperated. It had not been the first time. "You'd think they'd have some actual _news_ to report."

He chuckled. "Get used to your infamy, Nat. It took months before the Avengers' press died down."

I rolled my eyes. For the first time, Tony had publicly spoken about matters concerning the Avengers; telling about the girl who had attacked them, a girl whom no one got a close enough look at to identify. The nanos had proved ever-useful in scrambling any photos that were taken. The shield that surrounded me also masked all of my features; all that showed up on a camera was a blue blur. But Tony insisted to the world that this stranger was no longer a threat; that a mere misunderstanding had occurred. The press had lapped it up, had begged for more, but he otherwise remained silent; for which I was grateful. As far as the majority of the world was concerned, I was still just your average citizen.

"And still nothing on April?" I asked. She had been the only casualty; something for which I would be eternally grateful. My actions killed only one person. My horrors were spread to only one other. I just wished that I'd been strong enough to _be _that one person…

I shook myself out of it as Tony replied, "Nothing."

I sighed in relief, as I always did. April's demise had been labeled as a suicide in the papers, and had been ruled as one in any official reports. Very few people were allowed to know who the 'one casualty' had been; her name had never been released. Most times I was grateful for this… but some days, I wondered if it was the right thing. If I shouldn't let the whole world know how she tried to be a hero, how she _should _have been a hero.

How she would have been, had Loki not been pulling the strings all along…

I tried not to think about it. After a few moments of silence, I asked, "Let me guess. Bruce wants me to get my blood drawn again."

"You read our minds."

"Yeah, no thanks. I've got enough telepathy to last a lifetime."

He chuckled. "When your finished at the lab, I'll show you a few new additions to the armors. I think you'll be impressed."

"Huh," I mimed pulling a notepad out of my backpack and writing something down. "Flamboyant… personality… disorder…"

"Very funny. Go face the needles."

I grinned and waved at the camera as I walked towards the lab. "See you soon!"

Bruce was waiting for me; as usual, he greeted me politely, drew a bit of blood, and got immediately to work. But today, as I rolled my sleeve back down and headed towards the door, he stopped me before I could leave.

"Natalie?"

"Yeah?"

"If I could remove the nanobots, would you want me to?"

My immediate first reaction was one of shock and fear; I stiffened, but I covered it with a quick, loose shrug. "Well… if it was possible, sure. Why wouldn't I?"

Bruce glanced up from his screen; the computer's light threw interesting shadows across his features. Slowly, carefully, he reached up to remove his glasses, then tucked them into his pocket. "I've been able to isolate most of their core commands; the magic in them seems to be stabilizing them. Making sure that they can't self-destruct; even if something went wrong with them. In fact, so long as that magic remains…" he leaned back against a table behind him, but his head leaned forwards a little, closer to me, his serious eyes locked dead on mine. "Then they will remain completely stable. You're no longer at risk of them… exploding."

I frowned. That was all very well and good, but what did that have to do with me not wanting to get rid of them?

Banner elaborated before I could ask. "If that magic originated from Loki, then why didn't he remove it when you threatened to make the link permanent? You and I both know that you wouldn't last an hour without it; that your system, so severely addicted to that Asgardian energy, would shut down entirely if it vanished."

His arms folded over his chest. I scrambled to think of a good response, a good lie. I came up empty. My mouth opened, but nothing came out; I was left standing there, my lips opening and closing, like a freaking fish. My throat went dry.

"You know, from what I understand of Asgardian magic," Banner continued as my heart dropped to my stomach, and my stomach fell down to my toes. "There actually _is _a way to wean you off that energy. A way to remove the magic from your blood; and quite possibly the nanos with them." I couldn't read his expression; I wasn't sure if it was anger, or pain, or betrayal… it was completely unfathomable. I found I couldn't look at him as he said, "But then… you know that already, don't you?"

I didn't respond. I didn't even look up. I had told him before about my strange knowledge of magic and its workings; told him how Loki's influence had caused me to learn a great deal about it. He knew that it was possible for me to have figured that out, even if Loki hadn't offered, hadn't said a word about it…

"I'll ask you again, Natalie," he said, and his words were a shade softer. "If it were possible, would you want me to remove the nanos or not?"

Loki had suddenly gained an interest in this conversation. I had told him before that I didn't want him removing the nanos because the Avengers would see it as a sign of his weakness. Because they would see _me_ as his weakness. But if _Bruce _removed them… it would be a whole other story.

Would I want him to?

I looked at him. If I got rid of them, I would never have to worry about the bubble again. I could get angry at people without glowing. Hell, I could probably go back into normal society for a while, go back to college a lot sooner…

But I wouldn't be indestructible. I'd be all but useless in a fight. And, if another threat came against the Earth… I would have to sit on the sidelines and watch as the other Avengers suited up and fought without me…

That wasn't really my style, was it?

I looked him in the eye. "No," I answered at last, firmly. "No, I wouldn't."

He nodded slowly, letting out a heavy sigh. "That's what I thought." He turned away. "Thank you, Natalie."

I hesitated. "Bruce?"

"Yes?"

"Can we… can we not… I mean…" I stuttered around the question, my eyes on the carpet.

He half-turned and smiled slightly at me. "Our little secret," he promised, not needing me to finish.

I nodded, though I still felt a little sick. My stomach churned as I headed out of the lab, down to the floor where Tony usually worked on his armors. After a brief trip in the elevator, I arrived there; Tony gave me a slight smile as I entered the room.

As he went on in a very nerdy fashion about his latest upgrades, I feigned interest, but my mind was still very far away. If Bruce had figured it out, how much longer before Tony did? And Stark didn't know how to keep his big mouth shut; he'd tell all of the other Avengers, and then where would we be?

And then I thought about all of the others. Most of them had gained their powers on purpose: Iron Man, the Cap… there might have been side effects, but their powers were intentional. And of course Thor had been born the way he was. In fact, only the Hulk had been a full-blown accident. And here I was, another indestructible accident…

And I still wanted my abilities.

I still _wanted _the thing that made me special.

What must he think of that decision, of me? I mean, I hardly had an exploding green giant inside of me, but we both skirted the term 'monster' on a frequent basis. And we'd both come close to destroying New York, to destroying the people we cared about. We were both dangerous in our own ways; and without Loki's influence, I'd been having a hard time controlling the bubble again. There was still the possibility that I could do it all over again, could really destroy the city, if I just got angry enough, if there was enough pain in my heart…

"Hey!" Tony snapped his fingers in front of my face. "Earth to Natalie!"

I blinked a few times. "Huh?"

He rolled his eyes, not even bothering to explain; he simply pointed towards the camera monitor. "Your ride's here," he said; not, I noticed, without a trace of bitterness. I glanced to the screen, where I could see that Thor was waiting patiently in one of the living rooms, obviously having just arrived.

I swallowed. The science geeks, together with Thor and Odin, had managed to solve the whole 'energy build-up' problem; Thor could now use the Tesseract to come and go as he pleased. But, considering the amount of time I had been spending on Asgard recently, there had been talk of trying to find a more permanent doorway; some kind of portal, fueled by the Tesseract, that I could use to walk between one world and the other. That way, Thor wouldn't have to keep coming to Midguard to check on me, to see if I wanted to visit his brother today, or tomorrow, or whenever.

"Oh," I said to Tony. "Thanks," I started to head out the door.

"Knock 'em dead," Tony said, waving me off dismissively. He paused. "Actually, please _do _knock him dead."

I gave him a glare and left the room.

I retrieved my backpack from where I'd left it, then made my way towards the living room where Thor was waiting for me. I hesitated outside of the doorway for a brief moment; just long enough for me to pull myself together, to force my lips into a false smile, to make my limbs relax. Because I was normal. I was ok.

Everything was ok.

I sauntered inside, giving Thor my biggest, most plastic of grins. He gave me a smile in return; one that was far more sincere.

"Greetings, Lady Frost," he said politely.

"'Sup," I answered. I held out my hand. "Ready to go?"

He placed the Tesseract device's golden handle in my palm. I curled my fingers around it, and he twisted his side of the device; a flash of blue, a bit of a spin, and suddenly, I was on Asgard.

Travel there was so much easier these days; in fact, it was almost fun, given the extra boost that being so close to the Tesseract always gave me. An endless adrenaline rush without the hideous fear that usually had to accompany such a high.

I released my end of the Tesseract. "Maybe I can go by myself this time?" I asked Thor. I was kind of getting tired of having a babysitter; a chaperone, monitoring my every step in this world. What was I going to do, break the palace? "I think I can find my way to his cell by now."

"I'm sure that you can," Thor said, nodding agreeably. "However, the guards have strict instructions regarding my brother. It would be wise for me to accompany you there for now."

_Liar._

Loki and I both reacted to Thor's statement, suspicion running its course through the two of us at exactly the same moment. He had known his brother for far too long, and I had been too attuned with them both for either of us to be easily fooled by Thor's lies. We both picked up on his tells, on the very slight difference in his voice, and questioned why he would be lying to us.

The word _us _broke Loki and I apart again. I scowled, and he pulled away in revulsion. That had been happening from time to time; and a bit more frequently than we would have liked. Moments were the two of us were combined, brief seconds where it seemed we shared a single consciousness; not so much that we were one person, it was different from that. We were still unique individuals… but sometimes, we were unique… together.

It truly was an entirely separate state of mind. It was also confusing as hell.

I didn't let Thor know that I'd realized he was lying about the guards. I simply nodded and waited for him to return the Tesseract to where it belonged; when he came back for me, he smiled and gestured for me to go ahead. I obeyed silently, and the two of us walked together towards the prisons.

We didn't speak for a long moment, and I wondered if he'd ever find the courage to do so. However, just before we made the last turn, he halted. I had been expecting this, so I stopped almost immediately afterwards, turning to face him. Thor's eyes flickered from me, down to the floor, and back again.

"Lady Frost…" he paused. I wasn't sure even he knew exactly what he wanted to say. It took him another long moment to figure it out, and I stayed quiet, patiently waiting for him to fit his thoughts together, giving him time to think.

Finally, he said, "You once told me… that I should not give up on my brother. That, even if I might have to keep my distance, I should still hold onto the hope that one day… he might change. That I should never give up on him, no matter the things he had done." He looked down. "And I want you to know… how much I appreciate that you are doing the same."

I thought back to the conversation he was referencing; ages ago, back on the roof, back when I'd first met him, when I'd first realized that Loki was a prisoner, not free at all… back before…

Before…

_ I am ok. I am fine and I am all right and there is nothing wrong with me. I am Normal. Normal Natalie. _

I used this mantra to swallow the bad thoughts, to push them back as quickly as I could. I forced myself to look Thor in the eye as he went on.

"You truly did care for him," he said, looking almost… childlike. Innocent. "Did you not?"

The way he said that… as though it was a past thing, something that had once been but was no longer… it sent stabs of pain through me. Oh, I had once cared for Loki. Had once hoped beyond all reasonable hope that he could change. And now I was doing everything in my power to make sure that would happen, to be _certain _that he would change…

Was it just in the past? Was my hatred for Loki all that I felt now? Did I still care for him? Could I ever care about him again…?

I looked away from Thor. I wasn't even sure of what I was saying until I was actually saying it; and then the words rang with indisputable, undeniable, and _unstoppable _truth. "I still do." I whispered. My head bowed, my eyes on my shuffling feet. "As much as I hate him… and even after everything he has done… I still care about him. Because he doesn't need my hate. He doesn't need anyone's hate." My eyes went back to the Asgardian. "He _needs _someone to care about him; because he has enough hatred already. Because there is no one, on any world-not _you, _or _me, _or the _Avengers _or _anyone- _that hates Loki Laufeyson more than he hates himself."

Thor and Loki both fell completely silent. I turned away from the Thunderer and, without another word, without even a goodbye, I started towards Loki's prison. I could think of nothing more to say to Thor; I doubted there was anything that could follow that.

Loki was reeling, pulling himself as far from my thoughts as he could, tucking himself away in the back of my mind. But I could still feel it; _his_ pain in _my_ chest, _his_ utter self-loathing…

On seeing Thor and I, the guards stepped aside to allow me through the entrance to Loki's cell; I pushed open the doors and stepped inside, plunging myself into darkness.

Loki's thoughts tumbled about as I walked towards him, ignoring his brother. I stepped forwards, into the light where Loki resided. Sudden determination gripped me: as furious as I had been with him, as hurt as April's death had made me… I knew that I was right. Everything Loki did to destroy others… all he ever did was destroy himself in turn.

But how could he ever stop?

He was a monster, after all…

The two of us stood face-to-face, our eyes on each other, scanning, searching, trying to figure everything out. Two monsters on both sides of the war; right and wrong, good and evil…

But it was never that simple, was it?

I swallowed, trying to pull myself together, steeling myself against what I had to say. But I knew I had to say it _now, _or I never would. I knew the hatred would return. I knew it would come back for me, like some horrible disease… because I was a monster. I was fueled by my vengeance. But I couldn't let it control me; not anymore.

"I'm not doing this… just for everyone else," I told Loki in a breath of a whisper. My voice quavered a little, and I found my gaze going to the ground. It didn't help to look away from him; his presence in my mind swamped out everything else. "I'm not doing this to trap you, to destroy you. I'm not _doing _this because… I hate you." My vision swam as tears began to prickle at my eyes. I forced my face upright, forced myself to look him in the eye despite how distorted his image was becoming. "I'm doing this to _save _you."

I held out my hand. Despite how broken my voice had been just seconds ago, there was a steely, unwavering resolve in my words now. "One monster to another."

His green gaze flickered down to my outstretched hand. For a long moment that stretched into an eternity, he simply stared at it. And, for the first time, I realized exactly how true my statement was; realized _exactly _why I wanted to help him. Because he should never have been this. I should never have been this. _We _should never have been… _this. _

We were two monsters, created by our pasts… one lie that created another… vengeance in both hearts as we fought against each other, as we battled so furiously, as we struggled for supremacy in an endless, _pointless_ feud…

But our connection ran deeper than blood. No matter our past, no matter what had happened between us… we were supposed to be on the same side. We were supposed to fight _together_.

And it seemed so strange, to me, to think that none of this would have ever happened, had one man not decided to adopt a Frost Giant's child… had that Frost Giant never developed a talent for magic… had he never stumbled upon a mortal family and decided to have some fun…

Had I never delivered one pizza to Stark Tower…

But as Loki's hand tentatively reached for mine… I realized that I wouldn't change it. That I _couldn't_ change it, even if I wanted to. That everything happened for a reason. I didn't know what it was at the time; I didn't know _anything. _All I knew was that, one day, I would figure it all out. One day, the pieces would all fit together.

His fingers wrapped around mine, and mine around his, and we shook once; a dark taint of blue began to spread up Loki's skin, creeping from his hands up to his arms, from his neck up to his face. Slowly, surely, the blue took over his entire form… red flashed out of his green eyes…

And the man stood before me as a monster.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath… for just a brief second I allowed all of my anger to take over, allowed the hatred to poison my skin, so that gold began to bleed from it, a subtle shimmer that soon grew brighter, a glow that surrounded me. I opened my eyes again and looked back at him.

Two monsters. Together.

Like we were always supposed to be.

I released his hand, and he released mine, a little, disbelieving half-snort slipping out of him. As though this was all so impossible, all so insane… And yet, it was so absolutely _right…_

Slowly, _slowly, _he turned away from me. He started to walk towards the darkness, into the shadows. I didn't bother to stop him; any 'session' today would be pointless. We had said all that needed to be said; all that _could_ be said. For now.

Suddenly, Loki stopped. "Miss Frost?"

"Yes?"

He turned to me, just before he vanished into the darkness. And slowly, carefully, he smiled at me. And for one moment… for just one _shining_ moment… there was no lie, no deceit. It was a perfect smile, a smile that was completely, honestly, and genuinely _him. _

And he was not an Asgardian. Not a Frost Giant. Not a monster that tried to be a man; nor a man who tried to be a monster.

He was not the Trickster. He was not Odinson or Laufeyson. He was not a Master of Magic or Lies.

He was just Loki.

"Thank you."

I nodded curtly in response, swallowing painfully. _You will not cry. _I ordered myself inwardly. _No tears, dammit, you will __**not**__ cry._

Loki heard these thoughts, but he did not remark on them as he walked away into the darkness, to some undiscovered part of his cell. I let him go; in fact, I turned around and started walking away myself.

My hatred eventually came back. My resentment and my pain returned for me; my bane, my personal plague. Loki and I did not agree on everything from then on; we still fought. We still argued and we still had moments where we wished each other dead. I still despised him for what he did to April.

But, in the end… when it came down to it… from that point on, no matter what… we were what we were always meant to be. Even when we hated each other, even when we weren't friends, even when we weren't even _close…_

We were allies.

And if the world would call us monsters… then so be it. But we would not accept that. We would _never _accept it.

And that day, when I went home… I hugged my father for the first time in thirteen years.

* * *

**A/N: So… yep! Only the epilogue left, and the possible preview. I may post them at the same time. I may not. I'm fickle that way. **


	20. Epilogue

It has been a year since these events transpired. I am now twenty-one years old.

A lot has changed.

I still visit April's grave every day, without fail. Her mother has not forgiven me; so I avoid her to the best of my abilities, and only visit April when I know that she will not be there. I bring April flowers when I can, and try to keep her tombstone clear of anything that might disturb it. I still cry for her. A lot. I still talk to her when something is wrong. I think she still listens.

But I have moved on, as much as I could. I went back to college. I only have a few classes, one or two a week, taking the rest online. I have a few normal, human friends. But I'd have to say that my closest friends, and my second family, would be the Avengers.

As for my _real_ family… well, things were always complicated. My parents re-married a few months after Cameron came back home, and the two seemed to fall in love all over again. I was all for it, completely happy for them… and my father and I, with all of our similarities, realized just how close we were even though all of those years and distance kept us apart. I mean, we still have our problems. I still have a hard time calling him 'dad'. But he calls me 'Nat' a lot more now, and it's definitely growing on me.

But, despite that… despite how happy I was for my parents, despite how I tried to care about my father again… it was almost impossible, coming home to that, seeing them all lovey-dovey all the time. Finally, a while after they re-married, my father handed me the key to his old place, to the house that he had been living in for the past thirteen years. He signed it over to me; he no longer needed it, and it was time I grew up and left the house, anyway. I had a house of my own now.

Things were easier after that. It wasn't so hard to be with my 'dad' any more; because he wasn't there _all the time_. I could take it slower; something that I definitely needed to do. And while we still had moments-times where I would flinch away from him or he would momentarily forget who I was and look at me in disgust- I slowly came to accept our 'family' for what it was.

I kept talking with Loki. And eventually, he started talking _back_. He'll never admit it, but there are days when he's waiting impatiently for me to arrive, to 'alleviate the constant boredom', in his words. Truth be told, I think he just kinda misses me. Neither of us will admit it aloud, but we have absolutely reached the point where we can no longer live without each other. Our link has merged the two of us past the point of no return. If we were to separate now… I can't even think about it.

And it's hard for either of us to stay angry at each other; a complex bit of emotional chaos all around. No matter how much I might want to cling to my anger, I know it hurts him. And, in turn, that hurts _me; _because I can no longer stand to see him in pain. Like another nerve; if you get a cut on your arm, you react, you flinch, you hurry to bandage the injury. It's a lot like that with me and him; hurting Loki is like stabbing myself in the arm. Only it's more like stabbing myself in a second heart.

Complicated.

He never told me what he whispered to April that one day; her last day. In fact, when he offered to do so (long story) … I refused. There are some things that are better left unknown.

S.H.I.E.L.D. now views me as a valuable (if really annoying) asset. I think I've found a decent balance between personal privacy and international safety: meaning that I write down what I think about the Avengers' mental states, without actually _writing_ anything down. Whatever personal matters they discuss with me- if they ever bother to- _stays _personal. All I do is write that I believe they're in fine mental health without actually mentioning what led me to draw that conclusion. It drives S.H.I.E.L.D. batty, but, really, it just kinda sucks to be them.

With the knowledge that I only tell Fury what needs to be told, without getting into too great of specifics, it has been easy for the Avengers and I to remain friends; if that's what we ever were. Clint still thinks I'm crazy. As does Natasha. Tony and I still rub each other the wrong way and Banner and I still have coffee from time to time. Thor sometimes helps me with my combat training, and sometimes we simply just talk like siblings. Steve and I like to hang out on the roof. We all have our little routines within relationships.

And I never had to give them up.

I go to Stark Tower frequently; it's my job, after all. We all fit into our respective roles. We've gotten closer. All of us. Because, in all honesty, it would be impossible _not _to. We work together, we fight together… we're just… _us. _The Avengers and Natalie Frost.

Things have definitely changed.

I am an Avenger. Sort of. I mean, I could be, if I wanted to. And there are days when we discuss suiting up and fighting together; days when I work on my abilities with them, when we spar with me and my indestructible bubble (Loki, when he's very, _very _bored, will occasionally help me 'cheat', merging his emotional control with my own). But, even though I have that, even though I _could _be that… I find that I don't _need _to be. Because, really, I'm not the 'Avenging' type. I'm my own kind of hero.

But this was when I really realized it. When I finally understood what, exactly, I was.

I was on my own at the time, visiting April's grave. Loki always hid himself away whenever April's name was mentioned, preferring not to deal with the flood of emotion that usually took me over. On this particular day- one of those bright, hot days where the sun seems to be everywhere at once- I had a few fresh roses in hand as I walked up to the gravesite. I walked down the line of gravestones; all of whose names I had memorized.

The Avengers had been oddly particular about where they wanted April to be buried, and as her mother didn't really have a plan for it, and this spot had been in the same cemetery she thought April should rest at, she had allowed it. Of course, that was all _before _she'd decided that we were the ones to blame for April's death.

I stopped at her tombstone, tucked away in a far corner, safe and sound. Directly beside her was a large, ornate stone, which had been decorated with an American flag, and inscribed with the name '_Phil Coulson'._

It had taken me a very long time before I had the courage to ask Banner why Phil was so important, why April should be beside him. But when I finally managed it, Bruce had simply shrugged and said, "One hero should rest beside another."

Loki, on the other hand, had a very different take on the matter. After I annoyed him into telling me the whole story, he had mused quietly, _It's… interesting, that they should wish her beside him. Considering they were both… _He had hesitated, trying to think of the proper term. But then, smirking slyly, he finished with, _Avenged._

I smiled softly at the two graves. From what I knew of Coulson, I was fairly certain that the two of them would have gotten along famously. I like to think that she'd be proud to be there, to be considered a hero. No matter how badly her actions failed to save the world… As far as I was concerned, she had died for what she believed in. No matter what happened afterwards, she was a hero in my eyes.

I placed the roses in front of her, and talked absently to her tombstone for a long time; until the bright sun became too much and almost baked the skin off my back, and I realized how late I was for my 'job'. I patted the stone a few times, gently.

"I miss you, Blackthorn," I whispered, tracing the engraved name with my fingertips, then stood and started walking away. I retrieved my bike from the front of the cemetery and started off, back to where I belonged.

I picked up a few pizzas before I went to the Tower; our long-running joke was still getting on my nerves, and unfortunately it was giving Fury ideas. There was a lot of talk about me getting my old job back as a cover for the real work I did. I told Fury to shove it; I wasn't going back to that job for as long as I lived. Knowing my luck, I'd end up delivering to Wayne Manor next; and _then _where would I be? With some new Bubbly Bat-Girl powers, probably. Yeesh.

As I pedaled slowly towards the Tower, in no real rush despite my tardiness, I saw something that changed everything. And yet, it changed nothing at all.

I pulled up in front of an alleyway, taking a second to catch my breath. Long, dark alleys aren't all that uncommon in New York; I mean, there are a _lot _of really big buildings, after all, and most of them are squashed together like there will never be enough room. In fact, I tended to use them as shortcuts on occasion. They were no big deal, no matter how spooky they looked.

But this one in particular…

I have to say that my luck is either the absolute best, or the absolute worst; something that I have debated with myself for a very long time. I mean, normal people can go at least one day without encountering some crime in progress, right? Normal people can pass by alleyways without needing to get into a street fight, _right? _

But of course, _my _life is just jam-packed with criminals, psychopaths, and muggings-in-progress; like the one that I was currently witnessing. _My _life is filled with a bunch of loonies that dress in tights and even bigger loonies who wear crazy-ass helmets and plot to take over planets in their spare time. _My _life made me indestructible, gave me superpowers, put a psycho Frost Giant in my brain, and was now introducing me to Thugs number Uno, Dos, and Tres, pounding on some poor dude in the back of a freaking alleyway.

And you know what?

I wouldn't have it any other way.

I stepped off of my bike, watching the spectacle for a brief moment, acting as though I was just a young girl watching the show, like it was just a normal day at the movies. In reality, I was gauging the situation, my eyes scanning for weak points, flaws in stance. There was a surprisingly large number of them; very few of these guys could take someone down one-on-one. Maybe that's why goons tend to travel in packs.

_Loki? _I suggested innocently, brightly. The Trickster rolled his eyes; he had been watching, and was curious to see what I was going to do next. I was, after all, pretty much the only source of entertainment that he had. And it was important to make sure that I didn't do something stupid that threatened my life; and thus, threatened his own.

Seeing my plan, he sighed through his nose. _If you insist, _he answered loftily, pretending that my eagerness to cause some hurt was not rubbing off on him.

I cleared my throat. The sound went unheard. "Yoo-hoo!" I called. Loki sighed very heavily at my theatrics, but I was buying myself a little bit of time.

Three pairs of accusing eyes whipped to me, and a fourth- a pair that was now on the ground, the eyes of the victim- pleaded for help. I tilted my head to the side.

"Yeah, hey, look. It's a lovely little robbery you've got going on here, and you know, props to you, it looks like you planned it out really well." I gave them a quick grin that died off of my face in moments. My eyes were like flint. I wanted to take care of this quickly, get the guy on the ground to a hospital, if I could; cause he was looking pretty beat up. I scanned for weapons. Thug Uno had a small blade in his hand, but nothing else. My bubble had withstood a direct blow from the Hulk. I wasn't that intimidated by a shiny kitchen knife.

"But, I'm not that big on people getting beat up for petty things like money. So I'm gonna ask nicely." I gave them a bright, false grin. "Turn around and walk away. Sound good?"

Thug Dos sneered at me. He looked ready to speak, even started with, "I don't think-", but I just rolled my eyes, sighed hugely, and pinched the bridge of my nose.

"Look, seriously, dude. I don't have time for this. I'm already late for work, and I've got some pizzas here that aren't doing so well in this heat. Just walk away."

Nope. Thugs Uno and Tres were joining their fellow goon and turning to face me, the unwanted witness.

"Here's a better idea," Uno said, giving the little blade a tilt so that it flashed in the sunlight. His eyes darted to the flat silver band on my wrist. "Why don't you hand over your jewelry, then turn around and forget you ever saw anything?"

_Really? _I thought, my eyebrow pulling up. _**That's **__the best he's got?_

Loki silently agreed with me as I huffed, _Sheesh, even you're more original than __**that. **_

"Give you three seconds," I announced grandly, leaning to the side, pulling my emotions together. Fury and fear were the key to unleashing the bubble; pure rage was the key to controlling it afterwards. "One."

"You're not going to-"

I cut him off again. Light spread across my skin. "_Two." _

Uno looked to Dos and Tres, then lurched towards me.

"Oh, great, you made me say three."

_Don't blink, _I reminded myself as a Tesseract-blue shield exploded away from me. Uno, who had been charging me, collided with it spectacularly just before it receded to wrap around my skin. His speed when he crashed wasn't enough to knock him out, but my subsequent kick to the head certainly was.

_Don't blink! _I repeated to myself, to Loki's eternal exasperation, as Dos and Tres gawked at their fallen comrade. They didn't have time to gape for long; one punch, two punch, red punch blue punch, badda bing, badda boom, it was over. Blink and you'll miss it.

I didn't blink.

I glanced around at the unconscious bodies lying down beside me, then closed my eyes and took a deep breath, banishing what was left of my rage. The shield flickered, then evaporated around me, and I opened my eyes again.

Keeping my priorities in check, I headed towards the guy on the ground. He was bleeding and bruised, but breathing, and his eyes were open.

"You ok?" I asked quickly, stepping towards him, crouching in front of him. "Hey, it's ok now. I'm gonna call the cops, you'll be fine." The glow started to die away from me, the light leeching out of my fingertips, my skin. I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed 911 quickly, my fingers flying across the keypad. I ducked out of the alley to check the street names and relayed them to the operator, giving a quick description of what had happened, keeping myself anonymous. I did my best to act like some random bystander who was totally in shock, some teenager with no clue who squeaked like a frightened child. After babbling like an idiot for a long time, I finally hung up.

I waited by the victim until I heard sirens wailing in the distance, then got on my bike and got ready to ride off. Cops weren't really my style; too much official business and files that could be traced back to me. Fury would have been pissed; I was a S.H.I.E.L.D. operative now; I had to think of those things.

But just before I started off, the guy on the ground called in a choked whisper, "Wait!"

I turned to him. He'd been watching the whole fight unfold with wide eyes; and now those wide eyes were staring at me again.

"Who…" he was barely breathing, and pure shock had wiped his face clean on all other emotion. "Who _are _you?"

That question rattled through me, rang in my bones. The question that had plagued me. That had haunted me. Who was I? Natalie Frost, of course…

But what more than that?

Natalie Frost, the Avenger? Natalie Frost, the monster?

No.

I wasn't any of that.

I glanced to the boxes strapped to my bike and found myself grinning. And, for the first time in a very, _very _long time… I had an answer.

I turned to face the guy as the sirens grew louder. "Me?" I asked, tapping the boxes with one hand. My fingers drummed out a quick beat. "Well…"

Loki actually came close to chuckling as I gave the man a wink and said, "I'm just the Pizza Girl."

* * *

**A/N: Cheesy ending is cheesy. But fun anyway, I hope. :) **

**Also, the preview should be up later today/tomorrow. **


	21. Preview: Plaything

**A/N: For some unknown reason, I decided to write this little preview in the third person, even though the sequel is still written in Natalie's POV. So, you know. There's that. **

**Also! This might be a little confusing in the beginning. Things will clear up, just bear with me. :) **

* * *

Loki Laufeyson closed his eyes, tilting his head back and taking his first breath of free air in five years. He leaned back on his hands, his feet dangling from the edge of the world. Or, more accurately, over the edge of the roof of Stark Tower.

Natalie always loved it up here. He was beginning to see the attraction.

The air reeked of car exhaust and filth, mortal pollution stinking up the planet, and yet, he never thought he'd smelt something so beautiful in his whole life. The air was rotten and sour and filthy; but it was _outside, _it was _free. _The world was his for the taking once again; figuratively speaking, of course.

Cold air shifted the air around him; not that he particularly felt it. He was a Frost Giant, after all; the cold did not affect him in the slightest. He opened his eyes again and looked at the city below, the city he had almost destroyed. Twice. It still looked shining and new. The world was determined to keep spinning on, no matter what he did to stop it. No matter the chaos and carnage he wreaked, nothing could stop these ridiculous mortals.

And most stubborn of them all, the one most determined to keep moving forwards no matter the cost, to never look back, was Natalie herself. Loki would never understand that girl; their minds were linked together so tightly, their thoughts so bound and woven together that it was sometimes hard to distinguish them apart.

And he still had no idea how in the hell she worked.

For five years now, she had worked to forget what had happened the last time he was out in the free world, the last time he had escaped. For five years, she had done everything within her power to forget what he had done. To forgive him his many wrongs; to forgive him for the lives that he had taken. And, after five years, she had succeeded. She rarely thought of April, not anymore. Time healed all wounds, after all; and when she _did _think of her, there was no longer any malice, any anger towards him in these thoughts. She had accepted it. She had forgiven it, to the best of her abilities.

A strange one, indeed.

"Hey, hey, hey," A voice said behind him in a sing-song tone as light footsteps skipped across the roof. Natalie folded herself into a seat beside him, kicking her flip-flops off and dangling her now-bare feet over the roof, wiggling her toes. She rarely felt the cold anymore, either, not these days; though it could still affect her, could still damage her, if it was severe enough. She knew this, was full aware of it, and had caught many a fever because she had ignored it, but still she acted stubbornly oblivious. Loki had learned to stop arguing about it; it was pointless, anyway. She never listened.

"Greetings," he answered casually. Natalie gave him a wide, toothy grin.

"Enjoying the view?" She asked, as bright and cheerful as ever. These days, it seemed, nothing could stop her oddly sunny disposition. Loki allowed her to have it; it amused him, to see her so happy about such small things. Simple mind, simple pleasures, he supposed.

"I heard that!" She protested, her head whipping to him, brown hair flicking across her half-tanned features. He chuckled quietly and closed his eyes again, turning his face up to the sun.

Pretending that she had not spoken, that she had only asked about the view and said nothing else, he answered: "It _is _rather beautiful."

Natalie kept her eyes narrowed on him for a moment, but she let it drop. "Worth it?" She prodded, elbowing him playfully.

He rolled his eyes. He knew what she was asking; if it was 'worth' all of the misery, all of the damage to his pride, for him to get here, to this point in time, into the free air once more. It had taken a great deal for Natalie to convince Odin that Loki was repentant, that there was nothing he could do whether or not he was in his prison, that she would keep him in line no matter where he went. That it was simply 'more humane' to allow him this freedom on Midguard.

It did not always feel like freedom. The Avengers, he knew, would be watching his every move. He would be monitored constantly. And of course, there was always Natalie and that infernal mental connection the two of them had; she was such a huge presence in his life now, her thoughts and emotions always pressing up against his own, crowding themselves inside his head, meshing between his brain and hers. Like two different colors of clay, blended together; should someone cut it in half, kill one of them and not the other, or remove their connection entirely, then the colors would stay blended. They would not revert to their original state; parts of her would remain with him, and parts of him would remain with her.

And yet… he found that this was one restriction of his freedom that he could bear. Natalie, though convinced she was a monster, was in fact a good person; good enough, at least. If he had to choose someone to stay in his head for the rest of their lives… well, he did not think that he could bear the idea with anyone but her; and he could only tolerate her because of the many years that they had spent this way.

But… even with this permanent bond between them. Even with this mortal knowing his every thought, his darkest secrets. Even with the Avengers constantly watching him, even with their burning stare continually on his back… He was outside. He was out of that darkened prison cell, with its weak grey light and shadowed insides. He was no longer bound by four unseen walls.

He could _breathe _again.

He was _free _again.

He looked at Natalie for a moment, with her blissful smile and her hair streaming about messily in the wind. He turned away. "Aye," he answered at last. "It was worth it."

"Good." Natalie said primly, nodding once. Her legs kicked back and forth, still dangling from the edge. Her mother would kill her if she saw her like this, that close to the edge; Anna Rose Frost had a rather unnatural fear of heights. Cameron, on the other hand, would be more concerned with Loki sitting next to her, so close to her, than he would be about how high up they were. Cameron was not as forgiving as his daughter was.

But that was to be expected; most mortals were not like Natalie Frost.

Said Frost pulled herself to her feet, tucking her hair behind her ear as she did so. Loki half-turned to look at her, to watch her as she wedged her small feet back into her flip-flops again. She extended a hand to help him up. "Come on. We should get back inside."

He looked to her hand for only a moment. Then, slowly, he turned away, eyes distant. "I'll be along," he promised her softly.

He felt Natalie half-smile behind him. She understood, of course, why he wished to stay, why he wished for a few more moments in the open-if-polluted air.

"Sure thing," She agreed, turning away, closing off her thoughts to him so as to give him what small degree of privacy she could. Loki waited for her to go back into the Tower before pulling his legs up, closer to him, draping his arms over his knees.

He was still uncertain as to what he was supposed to do now; he could not take over Midguard. That much had been made painfully clear to him. As much as he may wish to rule, as much as he may wish to wear the crown… it was now an impossible task; Natalie had more than made certain of that. She despised bloodshed, loathed the killing of an innocent. To go against her, to do something that she hated so much… it was now unthinkable. It would damage her; and thus it would damage them both.

So what was he now, if he did not have that goal to reach for? What, exactly, was he supposed to do?

"You're supposed to die, my little Laufeyson."

Ice exploded behind Loki's eyes as shock froze him in place. For a second, the entire world was still, the planet coming to an abrupt, lurching standstill, making his stomach lurch with it. For just a second, he was entirely petrified, unable to move, to breathe, to _think…_

And then he was on his feet. He _wasn't_ thinking, not anymore, he was just running, running as fast as his legs could carry him, without any concern for Natalie or the Avengers or anyone else. Running along the roof's edge, only a hair's breadth away from plunging over to the inevitable fall below…

But that voice, and those words, had crept into his ears, burrowed inside and sent terrible parasites skittering inside of his mind, devouring all light and joy and reason, drawing forth fear and terror and the worst inside of him. And he knew that he could only run, could do nothing _but _run, because he knew that voice, he recognized _that voice…_

Hollow, lilting, musical laughter crossed the distance between him and the speaker as Loki's shadow suddenly rose up to greet him, a stream of darkness that flowed out and upright, forming a wall in front of him. It happened so quickly that he did not have time to change direction; but instead ran directly into it, falling onto his rear on the ground. He scrambled backwards, trying to get to his feet, but suddenly it was there; the speaker, the master of the shadows, the monster born of darkness, a creature unlike any other…

Loki's heart pounded in his chest, throwing itself against his ribcage as terror seized hold of him. But the creature simply smiled down at him.

"Hello, Loki," it said; its eyes were hidden beneath a black hood, its hideous face hidden in shadows, with nothing but its sharp teeth showing. A cloak swished and sashayed around it, flowing down from the creature's shoulders and masking the rest of its form, making height and build unintelligible. That did not matter; he knew what it was. He knew _precisely _what it looked like.

Loki scrabbled away, trying to flee from this nightmare creature, this voice that he knew so well, with its sick, twisted laughter and musically taunting voice… But the shadows swarmed him, gripped him in strong arms and held him fast… And only now did a vague degree of sense return to him, and he remembered Natalie. He remembered how he needed her, remembered how important she was, remembered that he could not survive without her, that their minds were now so gravely intertwined that to be without her would destroy him…

The creature saw these worries, spotted them floating around in his head, and it laughed quietly. "Oh, don't worry about your mortal, my Little Giant. She is already dead."

Dead…?

No. No, it was not possible. Loki clawed at the voices in the back of his mind, Natalie's voices, the whispers that continually followed him, wherever he went. Her thoughts and feelings and emotions, still there, still pressed up against his…

The creature laughed again as Loki broke through all mental barriers between himself and Natalie, screaming for her to run, to flee, to get away as quickly as she could and never return… but then, of course, he saw everything through her eyes; and he could see where she was standing now, where the shadows were also holding _her_ captive… the creature stepped to the side so that Loki could see Natalie with his _own _eyes. She was directly behind the Shadow's Master, darkness wrapped around her waist and ankles and wrists and mouth, thin tendrils of shadow holding her aloft, suspended in the air…

Loki struggled and writhed against his own shadowed bonds… but of course, they held fast. He had known that they would. The creature laughed again, softly.

"No, Loki. Do not fear what I shall do to her. Did I not tell you? Your mortal is already dead."

The creature walked over to Natalie Frost, who, typical to herself, gave it a death glare to end all death glares. Fire crackled in her eyes, despite her helplessness.

Loki had an abrupt flash of a memory, an invasive thought that may have originated from his own mind, but was nonetheless unwelcome. He remembered the look that April had given to him as he had approached her, as he had whispered cruel secrets into her ear… and he remembered the helplessness on Natalie's face as he did these terrible things…

And now, here he was, where she had been. Unable to stop it in spite of his power, unable to stop this, unable to do anything but watch.

And it was hell.

The monster of shadow ran its pale, thin hand over Natalie's cheek, stroking it gently, its toothy smile curling upwards in perverse delight. Loki could see darkness swirling at the creature's fingertips, a black spark igniting and sinking deep into Natalie's skin… she flinched away, writhing inside of a silent scream… then fell limp as Loki struggled again.

Natalie looked up to him, seeming abruptly weak and exhausted… her thoughts in the back of his turned sluggish, slow… The Shadow's Master continued to smile as its magic took hold inside of Natalie, as it completed its hideous work…

The transformation was slow, at first; the laugh lines around Natalie's eyes, which had not existed before, started to become thick creases, long and crinkled and cracked… her skin became more weathered, her hair turning grey streak by silver streak… the creature laughed quietly as Natalie's trembling hands transformed into those of an old woman's, wrinkled and pale as death. Fear was in Frost's eyes as she looked to Loki, death shadowing her.

"Did you really think that this could last?" The creature asked of Loki. "That the two of you could continue living as though nothing was wrong, as though one day you would not lose her? As though, one day, the only thoughts in your head would not be your own?"

Natalie's skin was clinging to her bones by now. She was wheezing, aging faster and faster… no matter how tightly Loki clung to her thoughts in his mind, they slipped through his fingers. It was as though he were tightly grasping a fistful of sand; it was impossible to save all but a few grains of memory, golden and beautiful in theory, but only small, pebbled rocks if you looked closely enough…

And then Natalie slumped over inside of the shadows that bound her… she began to crumble away, to rot into dust, scattering into nothingness… and Loki was left with the silence in his mind, an emptiness where she had once been in his thoughts, where he had once been in hers…

There was nothing.

Nothing but the cold abyss.

There was nothing left. No Natalie Frost, none of her thoughts, her sarcasm, her memories… an entire half of Loki had vanished without a trace, and he was left, weak-kneed and trembling from head to toe… his head was screaming with agony, the absence of an ache, ringing with hollow funeral bells…

His breathing came in gasps; he was empty, poured out and left in the dark, alone, with nothing but an echo of her name, whispered in disbelief, to remind him that she had ever existed, that she had ever been real… five years… five years was not enough, he should have had more, Natalie should have been alive for _more…_

The creature laughed again, that twisted, wretched, miserable sound… Loki was released by the shadows, but where could he go? No where, no where but on his knees, falling to the ground, clutching his head in his hands and trying to fill the emptiness with something, _anything…_

The creature's laughter took on that role, creeping in through his ears and pouring itself into his brain, filling it with blackness and shadows, with hollow darkness and twisted cruelty… bleaching out his thoughts until he could no longer remember anything of Natalie, could no longer remember her face, her smile, her laugh, her fury or her eyes… all he could remember was being alone, alone forever, because that was all he would ever be now…

"I've done you a favor, Loki," the creature told him in a dancing tone. "Your mortal was going to die one day, anyway; sooner it be now, when you have some hope of forgetting her."

Hope? What _hope _was there? What was this foreign concept? Natalie was dead. And he would soon follow; this creature would leave nothing alive. There was no hope around the Master of Shadows, no hope of life or light. He was certain of this. For he _knew _this monster, this foul being of shadow. He had met it once before, and it had haunted his nightmares ever since…

Nightmares.

_Nightmares. _

That was _it_.

This was all a…a _dream. _

Loki's eyes crackled as they whipped up to the creature. It must have known of this sudden revelation, but it did nothing but smirk at him as he forced his eyes to close. He focused inwards, focused in on himself, searching for himself in the darkness…

And he jolted awake.

Air rushed into his lungs as he gasped, sitting upright, his hands trembling, his heart pounding. His eyes whipped back and forth, scanning the area, searching for potential threats, for the creature, for where, exactly, he was… Disoriented and alone, he trembled inside of the pallid light that streamed down on him, not knowing where he was…

But slowly, _slowly,_ memory and logic and time returned to him. His past slotted into place in his mind, the truth bleeding through the cracks of the dream…

He scanned his mind quickly, listening in to the whispers in the back of his head… a small, quiet sigh of relief escaped through his lips without his permission. Natalie was there, of course. She was alive, she was young, she was healthy. She, too, was currently immersed in dreams, fast asleep at her own home, curled up on the couch with her dog sleeping at her feet. Alive. Safe. Home.

But still mortal.

Still weak.

Helpless.

_Alone. _

Loki banished the thoughts from his mind as he tried to ascertain where, exactly, he was. He gaze turned to the ceiling, to the grey, feeble light that shone dimly on him and the area surrounding him. But of course; he was still on Asgard. Still inside of his prison cell. Not free.

And it had been one year, not five, since he had escaped. Since he had killed April Blackthorn. Since Natalie had made their mental connection permanent. Only a year.

She still had not quite forgiven him. He still had not quite forgiven her. The happy, bright, cheerful Natalie Frost of his dream had been nothing more than a careless fantasy. The ease with which she moved around him, with which she smiled at him, had been a lie. Their current relationship was… strained, at best. Though she was trying to change that, he was not. Let them be as they would be. The _entire_ dream seemed like a nightmare now; even in the beginning, when everything had seemed sunny and cheerful and bright. When he had been a slave to Natalie's happiness, when he had thought he was happy to be so. The entire dream had been foul; even before the creature had arrived.

At the memory, he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. His heart was still moving a few beats too quickly, and he tried to slow it down. That monster had not returned. And hopefully, it never would.

He was safe. Imprisoned, perhaps. Bound to a mortal, perhaps. But he was alive, he was breathing, and that creature wasn't here, and so he was safe.

His eyes flickered open, and there it was, sitting in front of him.

He scrabbled backwards, fear in his eyes as he pressed up against the darkness that lingered just outside of his grey place of light; he hurried back towards that light before the dark could swallow him whole, before the shadows could pull him in with their thin, smoking tendrils, before they could burn and cut and slice and reduce him to ash and dust.

But here, in the light, was the real monster, watching him with hidden eyes, the master of darkness and the child of shadow… Loki watched it warily, uncertain of what to do, his heart pounding…

But of course… this was another dream.

He did not try to wake; not yet, not right away. If this was a dream, then this monster could not hurt him.

Slowly, he allowed himself to settle back into his seat, watching it with careful eyes. He folded his hands in his lap, meeting its stare as best he could without actually seeing its eyes; there was still nothing visible underneath its black hood but the smile, that sadistic little smile that showed gleaming white, sharp teeth.

"This is not real," He said aloud; more to himself than the creature. It laughed quietly, leaning back on its pale, bone-white hands.

"Nope!" It answered cheerily. "But you of all people know that this is no reason not to fear. Dreams are not always petty illusions, you know. And illusions are not always dreams."

Despite how Loki had never felt cold a day in his life, a shiver ran down his spine, rattling his bones. Yes, he knew that dreams were not always dreams, knew that the illusions given by sleep could frequently foretell something else; particularly where this vile being was concerned. Nightmares followed it, nightmares preceded it, and death lurked in between.

He swallowed and allowed the subject to change, pushing it away with feather-light fingers. "And why are you here, now? What do you want of me?"

He saw its face for a brief moment; just long enough for it to give him a strange, almost disappointed look, its face screwed up in disapproval. "Now, really, Loki. You'd think that you would have learned." Another chill gripped the Norse god of Mischief, though he kept his face cool and neutral.

"What do I _always _want, my Little Giant?" The smile was back, teeth flashing brilliant, blinding white. "Blood. Always blood. Death and chaos and destruction. And I have chosen a nice little world to bring it down on this time."

"Asgard is well defended," He threatened, but he knew it was hollow and flat. Nothing was 'well defended' against this… this _thing_. _**Nothing**__. _

It laughed; that pealing, ringing, sharp laugh this time, piercing through his ears and digging fierce claws into his bones. "Oh, Asgard is certainly an option. But why waste an opportunity, when Midguard has offered one so grand?"

Loki's heart leapt up into his throat. Natalie, curled up and sleeping on the couch, rolled onto her other side, snoring softly. Blissfully unaware that her world was being threatened, that it was about to crumble around her, that it was about to taste fire and ash and ruin…

But… if this was a dream… then she could already be dead…

No. No, he would feel it if that was the case. Loki's eyes narrowed on the creature. "And what opportunity might that be?" He asked, danger lingering over every venomous word… and yet, before this thing, that danger seemed small and insignificant. It could slaughter him without a second's thought. Pure power radiated from it, strong and fierce and foul.

"What else?" Its voice went high-pitched as it all but squealed in delight. Pale hands clapped together in an expression of utter ecstasy. "The Avengers, of course! With all of their lovely little powers and dangerously large egos, thinking themselves unstoppable, untouchable! How can I resist stepping in? How can I _resist _breaking spirits that high?"

Loki's hands kept trembling. He did not care for the Avengers, not in the slightest; but Natalie did. And Midguard was her home. It mattered to her; and thus, he had no choice but for it to matter to _him _as well. It was a horrible fact of life, something he despised, but it was a fact nonetheless.

And, of course, if this monster went after Midguard… Natalie would most certainly fall with it. She would not run. Even if she were able to run, she would not. She would stand by her planet, and she would die with it. She would burn right beside it.

Still, Loki pretended to relax, to act as though nothing was wrong. It was natural, for him to turn to deception before anything else. No matter how pointless that deception was. "You know as well as I how little I care for Midguard. Do as you wish."

It grinned. "Said the Norse god of Lies." It purred in response. Loki turned harsh green eyes towards it; fear was still gripping him, crushing his lungs, eating away at him from the inside out… his gaze was tortured as he tried to glare at it.

"The Avengers are stronger than you believe," he threatened, but if his earlier threat had been flat, this one was downright dead. The Avengers could be great warriors; but in the end, they were only mortals. And Natalie… Natalie was no exception.

"Are they?" The nightmare creature asked in a coo. Honey-sweet words oozed around him, thick and sugary, pouring inside of his ears and choking into his throat. "You yourself called them 'lost creatures'. What has changed in this time to convince you otherwise?" Another laugh. Sickening. Childlike. Sadistic. "You know better than to lie to me. And yet you insist on doing so." It shook its head slowly, then stood and walked over to him… it ran gentle fingers through his hair, but he recoiled as though they were tongues of flame. It chuckled softly.

"You know…" It said, lowering itself so that its lips were directly next to his ear, smiling a wicked smile, laughing a wicked laugh and spilling wicked whispers into his thoughts. "You always were my _favorite _little plaything…"

Loki couldn't stop the trembling. Couldn't stop the terror. He knew that this creature was not here, that this was a dream, that this was not _real… _but nothing could keep him from recoiling away from that creature, the thing which monsters had nightmares about; he would know, after all, being a monster himself… and what with _this_ being _his _nightmare…

"But who knows?" It shrugged, standing and walking away, into the darkness. That darkness embraced the creature like an old friend, and the creature vanished into smoke; but its voice still lingered and echoed in the empty air. "I may not see you for a very long time. I may give you a few more years; there are some lovely inhabited planets in Midguard's realm. Perhaps I shall 'visit' them before I take yours… take _hers._" A final laugh; and now its voice was distant, far-off… the farther the better, as far as he was concerned… "Or maybe I'll come tomorrow." Its words still lilted in the air, no matter how soft. "Or maybe, just _maybe…_" Despite how far away it sounded, he could have sworn that he felt its breath on his skin, next to his ear…

"This is all a dream, after all…"

Loki woke for the second time.

He stared up at the grey light above him, lying flat on his back, his spine pressing against stone as he lay on the ground. His heart was pumping thick, viscous lead through his veins, his blood heavy and dense, holding him against the ground. His breathing was quick and rapid, and he was all but gasping; but not a single breath found his lungs. A dream. It was a dream. It had to be a dream, it had to be nothing more, it could be _nothing _more. The universe could not _possibly _be such a cruel place as to bring that monster back into his life…

He laughed; it was a mad sound, half-hysterical, and his eyes burned as it slipped out of his mouth. Natalie was truly polluting him.

After all, since when had he _ever _doubted the cruelty of the universe?

* * *

**A/N: Reviews are much loved! **

**Sequel is now up and can be found in my profile! See you there! ;)**


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